


Altered Flight Patterns

by ilyena_sylph, Merfilly



Category: Beauty and the Beast (1991), DCU Animated
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Future, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-31
Updated: 2007-12-31
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilyena_sylph/pseuds/ilyena_sylph, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The weaving of Black Canary's life with Slade Wilson's (and a mysterious subterranean dweller) from the Thanagarian Invasion up to Batman Beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wounded Birds and Hidden Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> Very unhealthy sexual dynamics within. Also, liberal usage of comics events to flesh out things. 
> 
> Thanagar's invasion timeline has been stretched.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During the Invasion, Dinah bands together with heroes and villains alike to protect their world. While a mysterious dweller of the tunnel soothes her, another is her teacher and tormentor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One part of this was posted solo by Ilyena_sylph, but she has given me permission to post it in line here so it falls during the right part of the story.

The crime fighter evaded another searchlight, breathing hard and hissing at the wound in her shoulder. Whatever energy those Thanagarian weapons were using burned and numbed all at once. She was stuck in New York City, unfamiliar territory, and they had already rounded up the other members of the old Justice Society. She had barely evaded capture when Wildcat had thrown himself on her attackers, yelling at her to run. She knew why the older ones had done it; she was young, and had all the connections they did because of who her momma was.

She just did not know if she could get to anyone fast enough, with the Thanagarians apparently rounding up all the resistance. She had heard the Justice League was missing, and wanted by the invaders. That gave her some small hope; living under Batman's shadow, she had faith in her fellow vigilante.

"Halt!" The voice told her she was in a bind now, as did the booted feet coming with the voice. She took off at a run, knowing she could not take them on in the open street. She turned, breaking into an alley, and noting it came to a tight cul-de-sac too late. She spun around to face her opponents, noting with some part of her mind that there were five of them, all armored and all armed. If she wanted to break free, she was going to have to be blatant about it and hope for the best, drawing a full breath into her lungs.

The Canary Cry bowled them over, casting them into walls and dumpsters with satisfying crunches and breaks. She was not quite fast enough to stop the quickest one from firing, and her cry abruptly dropped as he managed to hit her once out of the three shots he fired through her sonic shock wave. She went down in a sprawl of limbs, her mind demanding that she rise and fight, but her body was only human. When hands picked her up and moved her to a damp, dark place, she was only half conscious, too close to overload.

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah groaned as she felt the effects on her body from her misadventure. She slowly opened her eyes, half expecting a prison cell. When she saw a damp curving wall instead, and the glow of emergency lighting, she had to stop and try to remember the details of the brief encounter. 

"Please, move carefully," a voice whispered from the darkness. The pure silken tones of the voice did more to reassure her than the fact she was not in a cell. "You were badly hurt by the winged ones Above."

"Tell me about it." Dinah struggled to come to a sitting opinion, thankful when the owner of the voice moved forward, still behind her, and helped her. "You saved me?" she asked, rubbing her neck as she noted the spartan furnishings of the barely, to her, livable setting.

"I heard your scream, and I was nearby. I merely made sure you escaped those who would have come next," the low, very masculine purr reassured her. She turned her head to see, but the man had a hood pulled forward, carefully concealing his identity.

"I owe you my freedom, possibly my life." She inspected the bandages over the burned wounds, noting the smell of herbal medicines. "Thank you." She shifted to turn her body more toward him, holding her hand out. "I'm Black Canary." She saw his hesitation, before he placed a gloved hand in hers. Living by her senses as much as she did, she felt, through the cloth, that his hand was not quite human, but it did nothing more than make her smile shyly at him.

"I am called Vincent," he told her that very gentle, soft purr. She nodded, committing the name to her memory. 

"A noble name." She winced as she shifted her weight one more time. "I have to go, Vincent…I probably owe you my life, but I have to find the others like me." She moved to stand, and he was instantly at her side, one hand under her elbow and the other on her lower back.

"Gently, Black Canary; your injuries are unlike any I have treated, and Father is not here now to help with them." He stood very still and steady as she leaned into his support, her eyes snapping with pain and determination. "Perhaps if you told me, these others could be found for you? I truly think more rest is needed or you will injure yourself severely."

"Others wearing…odd clothes, clothes that don't fit in with everyday people." Dinah indicated her torn fishnets, the singed black leather, and her jacket, which had definitely seen better days. 

"If you rest, I will get my people to look for others like you, escaping the bird people," Vincent promised, his strong hands very gently guiding Dinah to lay back down on the simple pallet. In doing so, his face was directly over hers, and her eyes had adjusted to the lighting to let her peer beneath the hood's shadows. She saw a face that had more in common with a lion than with a human, but it was the eyes that arrested her attention.

"So pretty," she whispered, reaching up to touch his face before he even realized it. He closed his eyes, going stiff at feeling her hand on the velvet skin of his cheek. She reached up and pushed his hood back, so she could fully see the features of her rescuer. "It is a shame we live in a world that would force you to hide." Her calm acceptance of his strangeness stunned the gentle man, causing him to look in her eyes. There was no deceit in the blonde woman's face or voice, nor tension in the hands that slowly pulled back from his face.

"I…I will return soon, Black Canary. Rest." He moved away, returning his hood to cover his leonine features and mane.

`~`~`~`~`

When Dinah came to the next time, Vincent had returned, and was changing her bandages. At seeing her eyes flutter open, he started to pull back, to hide his hands, but her genuine smile stopped him.

"Not used to people not freaking out when they see you, huh?" she asked. She touched his hand, catching it and drawing it back to the bandage he had been tending. "Please. Don't hide from me. I've been around people who were special all my life."

"Most people Above only see a monster in my face, my hands," he told her quietly. "I found several people like you, lurking in alleys and hidden ways. Many were injured, and are being treated by the others." 

She nodded slowly. "After you finish changing the bandage, can you help me to them?" She had a sense about people, and it was telling her this man was very trustworthy, as well as special in more than appearance. He hesitated, and then nodded.

"Father is still cut off from this part of the tunnels, with some of our own." His admission made her realize that in meeting him, being saved by him and brought into his world, she had a responsibility to him as well as those in her own world.

"Let me talk to the others, and then tell me where he is, so I can figure out how to get to him," she said, wincing as he had to tighten the bandage. The lines of pain creased her savior's forehead, and caused him to look up into her eyes. She saw the liquid concern there, and felt a lump in her throat at the gentleness in this man. "I'm okay, Vincent." She smiled gently, her free hand going to touch his hand lightly. "I'm used to being hurt, and I can handle it."

"Why?"

The simple word, silken in tone, but perplexed in meaning, made Dinah pause. She shook her head, causing her blonde lockes to cascade around her face. "I'm what they call a hero in the papers, what the police refer to as a vigilante, and, in my own heart, just someone trying to make things right." She could tell Vincent did not yet understand. "We have laws, and the police deal with people who break those laws. But, there are people who have abilities that make it hard for the police to catch them. And then there are people like me, people like the Justice League, with our own abilities, or the dedication to make sure these people get caught. We fill a gap in the way it should work, and the way it actually does."

Vincent nodded, understanding now. "You follow your heart, to use your voice in defense of others." He gave her a small smile, one that made her return it in dazzling clarity. 

"Yes." She shook her head to clear it, laughing just a little. "Here I am giving the Superhero 101 lecture when I need to go see who we have. Something has to be done to make sure the invaders don't get away with this." She accepted Vincent's help to stand up. "And we need to get your people reunited, to repay the help you've given. Can you tell me more about how they are cut off?"

"A collapse of one tunnel has left only one path back. Unfortunately, a man in armor, black and orange in color, is in control of that path, and he has locked it off." Vincent guided her down a tunnel as she considered his information. 

"A man in black and orange armor…" she mused.

`~`~`~`~`

It took them almost ten minutes to reach the area that the other heroes were being helped in. Dinah found herself leaning on Vincent more than she absolutely needed to for the walk. She knew she had far greater things to worry about, but right now, she could not help but take a small pleasure in the warmth he exuded. When they reached a very large junction, crowded with pallets that had been hastily made, Dinah straightened and hid all signs of weakness or injury. 

Her eyes scanned the six costumed people in the junction being aided by people dressed much like Vincent. She was vaguely aware that Vincent had hidden his face again, as she identified everyone she could. Her blue eyes glanced over the supermodel with jungle powers being treated for a dislocation, on to the man in a long coat and hat, his features hidden behind a faceless mask. She frowned a tiny bit at seeing the woman called Volcana with the heroes they had rounded up, but she realized that the bad guys were every bit as affected as they were by the invasion. The man in blue with a scarab on his chest had made some news lately. She nodded professionally to the man wearing purple, who was trying to pull his arms both to their proper shape. His nose twitched in her direction and he smiled, taking confidence in her appearance. He then jerked his head over to the final pallet, where one of the tunnel dwellers seemed to be helping a child sized….

"Atom?!" Black Canary rushed over to the man she knew both by reputation and experience. He gave her a smile, which broadened when she knelt down and hugged him. 

"You certainly have a way of making a man forget he's married," Atom said when she let him go, smiling broadly at her blush. 

"You look about half size, Atom," she said softly, smiling cautiously at the tunnel dweller who was caring for his cuts and bruises. "What happened?"

"Energy burst caught me in mid shrink, and this is as far as I got. I should be able to fix the suit with some proper tools," he added, seeing her crestfallen look. "Sorry, Canary, but you're still stuck organizing this party, unless you'd rather let Elongated Man."

"I respect him, but he's not a leader." Black Canary sighed softly, only then realizing Vincent had followed her and waited patiently nearby. "Okay, well, let me touch base with the others, then I have to see what I can do to help our rescuers with a small problem."

"Do you already have plans for us?" Atom asked. "Can we count on the old guard to surface now that the Justice League is missing?" Black Canary grimaced, and looked down.

"Wildcat used his chance to break free to make sure I got loose. Sentinel and the first Flash were already down, from what I could see, and the Thunderbolt never materialized, so I assume they got Johnny."

"So no help from the Society." Atom somehow kept his voice from falling, and it helped Dinah pull herself together.

"We need to band together, learn more of the Thanagarians, and find the right way to handle this," Black Canary said, drawing herself into a more dignified pose. She stood back up from his side, and squared her shoulders, moving toward Volcana first. The fiery thief bristled, until Canary held her hand out in a peaceful gesture. "Look, I know who you are, and I don't care at this point. Stick with us, and help against the invaders, or skulk in the shadows if you'd rather," Dinah said. "But personally, I've got a feeling a race that will shoot on sight is not about to let a criminal element live."

The red head's eyes narrowed, then she took the offered hand. "Black Canary, isn't it?" They shook. "I'm not real fond of skulking, so you can count on me." With that reassurance, the small vigilante moved on, her protective savior following, taking note of every interaction. The way she greeted the one in purple, who seemed to be made of the taffy that Father sometimes gave to the children, was friendly, with a question about the man's wife. To the man in blue with one broken eyepiece in a pair of goggles, she introduced herself, and asked for his help in a sultry tone of voice. Vincent felt that odd sensation in his chest, hearing the way she talked to the man in blue, soothing worries and enlisting aid. 

With the man that bore no face, she started to introduce herself, but he already knew of her and immediately agreed to aid whatever plan she came up with. Vincent found the man's body language to be highly guarded. With the more feline woman, Black Canary merely shook hands, asked her if she would help out, and the other woman nodded. Vixen, as she was called, even agreed to start pooling information with the others, while Black Canary attended to her other errand. 

The tiny blonde took Vincent's arm with such a natural smile that the UnderDweller immediately returned it with a soft look of his own.

"Ready to go see if you can help Father and the others?" he asked her in a low voice, receiving a nod. He guided her out of the gathering area and further into the tunnels, bypassing the ones that were damaged from the battles in the streets earlier. When martial Law had been declared, the local police, National Guard, and a few concerned citizens had fought back, to little avail. There were some survivors of those encounters being tended by more of Vincent's people in other gathering places. He had only brought the ones to Black Canary that fit her description of not blending in well with the normal people they had rescued. He was worried about the long-term repercussions of all he had done, but it was a small worry; he knew he had done the right thing by saving as many from Above as possible.

"So this man in orange and black armor took over one of the junctions, and it's the only functional way to reach your father and some others of your people." Dinah found her eyes adjusting to the very low light levels, but kept her hand on Vincent's arm, something he took a small pleasure in. Not many, even from Below, went out of their way to touch him.

"Yes. He sealed both sides of the junction, and we were avoiding him, until the cave-in caused our difficulties. Perhaps someone of your…persuasive talent might make it safe for my people to pass through." Vincent paused, just as she was seeing the increase of the light ahead.

Dinah chuckled low in her throat. "I learned young that a good voice would get me farther than a well thrown punch." She moved to where she could look further up, and saw a set of steel plate doors, and a fancy electronics pad next to it. The camera was obvious to her eye as well, and she drew in a deep breath. "Looks a lot like a secret villain hideaway to me."

"Villain?" He grew concerned, but she merely ran her hand over his cheek, under his hood. 

"Don't worry. I can handle this. Please wait for me." She walked out into the open, her hands spread wide in front of her. She went straight for the best spot to be seen by the camera and smiled.

`~`~`~`~`

The proximity alarm had told him of their approach. Discreet telemetry feeds gave him the data of two bodies, one warmer than the other. Other data correlated, and he watched as one moved ahead of the other. Now his attention shifted to the video monitor, where his camera could show him who had come visiting. 

He saw a woman who might come up to his chin, wearing torn fishnets, a singed leather one piece, and a very tattered short waist jacket. Her blonde hair was tucked behind one ear, but partially shadowed her face on the other side. Her hands were bare, but he already knew she should be wearing gloves; doing what he did, it paid to keep up on all the rising stars in the meta population. 

Black Canary was on his doorstep, smiling for the camera.

"Interesting," the one-eyed man said to himself, steepling his fingers in front of him as he leaned back in the chair.

`~`~`~`~`

The doors opened outward, and Black Canary moved forward fearlessly. She was on guard, but did her best to not show it in her posture, her friendly demeanor. She felt Vincent's eyes on her the whole way in, until the doors closed behind her and she was alone in the small fortification beneath the city streets. 

"Come forward, Black Canary," a voice beckoned. It slid over her nerves with a velvet texture, in the way that only a cultivated man could affect her. Her eyes adjusted some to the brighter lighting, and she glimpsed the man she would have to deal with. Seeing him stirred some thoughts of headlines, something about the man being involved in a political assassination plot foiled by the kids that called themselves Teen Titans. "I take it the aliens have sent the world's finest scurrying for the shadows?"

"No, they're on the loose, planning ways to get rid of them," she said with complete confidence. "However, they could use help, and that's what I am planning." She stood with one hand on her hip, her body language challenging without being aggressive. "The thing is, I have some allies that have friends on the other side of your little base here. To make good on their help to me and the team I've assembled, I need to get those friends back." She did not hide her goal from him at all, which struck him as both amusing and too open at once. His profile on the Gotham bred vigilante was sketchy; she was a minor player, though affiliated to several 'retired' superheroes of times gone by.

"So you've come to strike a bargain?" He moved from his control chair, walking down to where she had stopped. "It takes having something I want to make deals, Little Canary." He stopped mere inches from her, towering over her with quiet menace. She did not move, save to tilt her chin up to meet his one-eyed gaze. It caused her hair to fall in a curtain over her eye, bringing out the likeness she bore to the famed pin-ups to earlier generations. 

"What price do you ask?" She did not blink as she met his gaze intently. He noted that she had not used his name in the exchange so far, and suspected she had no idea who she was truly dealing with. "I'd think that with the world under alien control business in the assassination rings would be a little poor right now, anyway."

His eye narrowed; she might not know exactly who he was, but she remembered something about him. "So you wish to make this a business deal?" he inquired, letting his voice curl around the pronoun in a more familiar way. He was inwardly pleased to see the slightest flush come to her cheeks.

"I invited you to name your price," she reiterated, taking a small step backward under the sheer charisma he exuded. The smile he had did not show through his mask, as he prepared to set his terms.

`~`~`~`~`

It had been nearly an hour when the doors swung out again. Black Canary led the small group of Tunnel Dwellers out to where Vincent slipped from the shadows. His first glance was for the small woman, sensing her deals inside the closed junction had upset her. He then smiled at the one he called Father, as well as the others. 

"Father!" he said softly, clasping the man's shoulders in a small show of affection. "You have met Black Canary? We have rendered assistance to some from Above."

"So she tells us," Father said. "She said there were wounded among them, though." He and the others set about moving back into their customary haunts, just as the man in black and orange armor exited the junction, joining Black Canary with almost proprietary interest. Vincent felt a surge of unease as she glanced down for a tiny moment, before squaring her shoulders and following the main group.

`~`~`~`~`

From Atom's hissing recognition of the man walking too close to her, Dinah realized her suspicions that this man was Big League Evil was probably dead on the money. She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head though, and the older hero calmed outwardly. Vincent's people were clustering around Father, so Dinah took it as the right time to gather the other heroes, and Volcana, to decide where to go from this point.

"Black Canary," the enigmatic man in the armored suit began. "What were your thoughts in assembling these people?" 

She was glad she had hidden the cringe, but now she gave it earnest thought. "We know, from the viciousness the patrols are using, from the propaganda on the TVs, that these Thanagarians have to be lying about their purposes."

"Why?" he pressed, and Atom watched the struggle in his friend's body language as he tried to meet the question properly.

"They're warriors. Ruthlessly so, since they still carry fairly archaic weaponry, preferring a barbaric hand to hand over using their technology to kill clean," Dinah supplied, gaining a nod from the one-eyed man. Her agreement with him was very present in the back of her mind. "And, if they were really here to help us protect ourselves, why send a spy in the first place? For five years, I think they said. That's a stakeout, not a recon."

"Very good. What are your intentions now?" At Slade's question Elongated Man started to speak, but Atom shook his head, trying to find the dynamic motivating the strange alliance to this dangerous man.

"You offered your prowess in military maneuvers," Dinah said, phrasing it carefully to betray nothing. "This is a very large populations center, and they have no doubt established a garrison. It seems like we should gain access, and try to learn the real plans."

"And then?" He was being very civil as he prompted her to think it through.

"We have to get that word out, which means acquiring communications ability." Dinah watched the impassive, blank mask, and relaxed a fraction when he nodded.

"It sounds right to me," Atom then said, bothered by the undercurrent of fear and resentment Dinah was projecting about the villain. He privately planned to see that the enigmatic assassin was placed in a deep prison, if anything happened to Black Canary.

Slade turned to view the man stuck in the midsize point, regarding him with uncanny intelligence. "I suggest that each of you," he began, looking at each hero and the lone villainess. "Get some rest. It will be dark soon."

"Canary," Elongated Man began as the small group started to disperse. "Can you talk a minute?" He tried hard to keep his nose from wriggling, especially when she squared her shoulders and shook her head. He caught her quick glance toward the cloaked man she had been with earlier, then the furtive one at the armored man beside her.

"No, I need to discuss things with our ally, get a better idea of how we'll handle this," she said, forcing her voice to a neutral pitch. She somehow kept from flinching as the gloved hand of said ally pressed to the small of her back, guiding her to a small alcove for privacy. In the back of her mind, she kept the cursing to a minimum, remembering the exact deal, and what they stood to lose if she failed.

("It is simple, Black Canary. You will consider yourself as mine, in all manners, until the crisis is past, or you manage to earn your freedom,") she recalled him saying. ("Not such a high price for the intercepted communications and surveillance you will need? Not to mention my military background."

She shivered, still wondering how she had been swayed to see it as a necessary evil. One more, her eyes cast longingly in Vincent's direction, feeling pulled to his gentleness as much as this seductively evil man frightened her.

`~`~`~`~`

Vincent had watched the ones called 'heroes' preparing to return Above with a deep seated concern for the Black Canary. Ever since they had returned with Father's group, the small blonde had seemed edgy, even afraid to his sense of her. It centered on the man in armor, the one who had remained close to her the entire time the group of costumed people were getting ready. Vincent could see it most strongly in the way she would almost flinch at the very casual way the armored man would touch her.

"You watch the blonde intently, Vincent." Father had come up alongside him, and waited while the man was preoccupied.

"She is in danger, from the man," Vincent said, the slightest hint of a growl entering his voice.

"We should not get involved. I agreed to give them medical aid, Vincent. No more. Their problems are not our concerns!" Father was being very stern, afraid of what he saw in his long time ward.

"I took responsibility for her when I saved her life, Father," Vincent replied softly. "If this man means to harm her…I cannot allow that."

"They will be leaving in a few hours," Father told him. "Wipe her from your mind, and let go your misplaced sense of duty concerning this one." 

"I cannot." Even closing his eyes from the scene, he knew that she was vibrating with nervous energy, knew how upset she was. "I feel her."

"It will pass with time and occupation." Father clasped the taller man's shoulder. "Come; we need your help moving things deeper into the tunnels." He used firm pressure to make Vincent tear his eyes from the scene in the dim tunnel across the way.

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah stayed very still as the others moved ahead of them and Slade brought his hand down on her neck, stroking it lightly.

"You really must relax, my dear," he murmured close to her ear. "That tension will cost you in battle."

"Then back the hell off, Slade Wilson, before I…" She gritted her teeth as his eye narrowed at her.

"Before you what, Dinah Lance?" His voice swirled over her name possessively.

"Back off, and let me have my space to work," she growled instead, pushing her pace harder. He let her, amused by his thoughts of how best to bring her to heel.

`~`~`~`~`

It was nearly seven hours later before the group of heroes returned, all of them hurt, none arriving in groups larger than two. There were more than had gone out, but the new ones had the signs of having been incarcerated. Vincent helped Father with these, keeping his face hidden until a green skinned, slender young man was brought in, unconscious, by the fiery woman Volcana. It was quickly apparent that these people really did not react to differences the same way as most people Above.

Vincent kept an eye out, making note as each of the ones from earlier arrived, always questing to find Dinah. She came in, supporting a pregnant woman, while the armored man shadowed her from behind. She was ignoring the man, Vincent could tell, as she helped the hugely pregnant woman go straight to the one he had heard called both Ralph and Elongated Man.

"SUE!" The stretching man was at her side as soon as he saw her, his whole body quivering with relief. The couple indulged in quiet affection, while Dinah stood back. Her entire left side looked as if it had born the impact of heavy objects, especially her arm, which was still bleeding. Vincent quickly moved to her, thinking to bandage it even as he processed the fact his own arm had been throbbing most of the last two hours.

"Black Canary," he began, earning a beautiful smile from her, despite her obvious fatigue and pain. "You should lie down," he murmured, his voice a tender whisper across her ears that made her wish for the all the world that she could just curl up in his safety. 

"I can't." She moved her hands to his, touching his hands as she accepted the bandages. Her eyes fell to the floor, before she took one small step back.

"Why does he frighten you?" Vincent asked softly, making her look up.

"I'm not afraid," she protested, both of them knowing it for a lie, but Vincent feeling her need to appear brave in front of those that had fallen under her leadership. "I have a promise to keep, is all." She turned to move away, getting only a few steps before Slade was there, stopping her flight from Vincent. Possessively, he drew his hand up and stroked her hair, his one eye meeting the bestial man's gaze.

"Come, dear…we have things to discuss." His voice was misleadingly gentle, because the hand on the back of her head was anything but. Dinah closed her eyes for a long moment before nodding, letting him guide their passage back to his complex, all too aware of both the looks of her peers, especially the Dibny couple, and the mournful, non-understanding of the gentle man beast.

`~`~`~`~`

She'd been back in the complex all of three minutes--practically glowing with her success and riding out the leftover adrenaline high of desperately avoiding the Thanagarian guards--when a steel-strong hand latched around her upper arm painfully hard. "Come with me," Slade's voice ordered, not actually giving her a chance to argue as he began to pull her away. She braced against the pull, head tossing back defiantly as she glared at him, starting to snap back at him--and he spoke right over her. "Unless you wish to invalidate our agreement, you will come with me now." 

She couldn't risk that. The last week had proven just how valuable the cold, calculating bastard really was--they needed him too much to risk him leaving. The resistance drained out of her like water and she let him pull her forward, taking the steps to his side--not obediently, but reluctantly--in an attempt to get him to release her arm... an unsuccessful attempt. The pressure of his grip eased slightly... but only slightly, and he moved them rapidly back towards his personal domain. She didn't bother trying to watch the keycodes--he would change them in a few days anyway--distracted with trying to push away her rapidly rising fear. She was slowly learning to read his body language, and she'd never seen this kind of anger in him before. The worst thing was, she knew it was her fault. He'd told her to stay Below, but no one else could have made the run after the needed supplies as quickly as she could--or as inconspicuously. She'd been fine until she was on her way back! "Slade, I--"

"Be still, girl." It would have been better if he'd yelled, she decided after a moment where all she could do was shudder. As it was, that coldly cultured command made her feel more like a misbehaving child than a heroine--and that burned like fire. She glared at his jawline as they moved, caught in a multi-sided tug of war between fear and anger and defiant pride, pulse fluttering between its usual rate and an adrenaline-charged staccato as she struggled to stay calm. She'd never been into this part of his lair, a small part of her observed as he walked her through a new set of doors--and as they closed, she knew why. He'd brought her into his personal quarters. She caught flashes of furniture and an uncompromisingly masculine décor scheme in dark tones and leather, deep pile of the carpeting lush even under her boots as he tugged her through another, half-open, door and turned to shut it behind them. 

Her eyes flashed around, taking in the layout of the room before her brain caught up, impressions of dresser-carpet-fireplace-painting-bed! coming in rapid-fire before that last one froze both her mental processes and her body. She went stock-still, feeling her eyes flare wide and terrified as she struggled for breath. //NO, nononopleaseno...// 

"I am not going to rape you, girl," his voice--she didn't know how to describe it. It was no softer, and not truly gentler, but... she could sense the sincerity in the words. "I much prefer my partners willing." 

She tried not to shudder, tried desperately not to show how relieved she was--how afraid she had been of what he wanted in those few moments. "So why bring me here?" she tried for confidence and curiosity with her voice, and could hear that she only half-succeeded. 

"I have no intention of shaming you publicly," was the utterly non-reassuring response as he faced her, looking down into her eyes, still holding her arm tightly. "You are leading the rest of our merry little band, making it a poor move strategically for me to chastise you where they might hear. No-one will hear anything here." 

The retort that had sat hot on her tongue through the end of his words snapped out, "Chastise me?! What do you think I am, a child?!" 

"Not normally. However, you are mine--" The emphasis in that last word made her want to hide--he was evil, she knew it, and he owned her, by her own agreement. He continued to speak as she struggled to control the urge to pull away "--and you deliberately disobeyed me. Did you truly think I would not know that you had gone to the surface as soon as you did? I warned you they were increasing their patrols, that a new supply source was necessary, and you blatantly ignored me." It looked as though there was more waiting behind his lips to be said, but he'd gone silent again behind the mask. 

"I ha--" 

"No. You chose to," he spoke right over her again, refusing to see that she'd had reason. "I could take that as a signal you wish to be rid of me and no longer want to uphold our agreement--however, if that were the case you would not be standing here. As you are still here, our agreement remains in force. And you willfully provoked me with your disobedience." She started to protest, damn it her world didn't revolve around him, no matter what she'd agreed to, she wasn't about to let anything happen to Sue's baby--and he turned this long, level look on her that stopped her voice in her throat. "That cannot be allowed to go unpunished."

"Unpunished?" she heard her voice shake and hated it, pulse erratic in her throat and ears as she stared up at him, swallowing hard and trying to control her fear. "W-what--"

"I shall let you chose. Your punishment may be strictly physical, and will cause no permanent damage, or you can agree to have no contact with the rest of the heroes and tunnel-dwellers barring what is necessary for planning." 

//'Trade the devil for a witch',// the old saying flickered through her head as she stared up at him in shocked dismay, thinking over how badly he could hurt her--and the complete destruction of their ability to resist the Thanagarians if he kept her from the survivors any time he wasn't around... they would soon come to think she had turned on them, had gone to his side... That was unacceptable, but that only left... 

"I--" she could not believe she was going to say this, "I'll... take the physical..." At least this wasn't going to be completely new. She'd gotten into enough trouble once or twice as a child that she'd felt her father's hand. Part of her was protesting that this was nothing like that--louder and louder as Slade pulled her to stand immediately next to his bed and released her, panic slithering up her spine all over again at that. 

"Take off the jacket. And the gloves," his cool voice ordered, and she obeyed, dawdling with loosening the gloves until, "girl..." came warningly from her right shoulder, then she finished pulling them off rapidly--//What is he planning oh god what's he going to do to me (he said no dama--) no permanent damage, and this is him, he could do a lot without permanent damage oh, god...//--ran through her head as she stuck the gloves in her pockets and slipped the jacket off, feeling his eye on her shoulders with unaccustomed vulnerability, holding it in one hand. He took it from her and tossed it lightly across the room, onto a chair, then he simply flowed from standing beside her to a seat on the bed--firm mattress, she noted as it barely dipped. Even seated, he was almost at her eye level and still very much in control. She heard her breathing, loud and unsteady in the absolute quiet of the room, and she swore he smiled behind the mask--then his lethal body was in motion and he caught her somehow, pulling her down and twisting her body so she wound up face-down in the mattress with her right hand hanging off the bed and her hips hard over his right thigh, her legs up on the bed as well--she'd started to struggle, her instincts not wanting to submit without a fight--"Dinah!" he snapped and she froze, trying not to shake. The positioning was humiliating for an adult and that he'd overpowered her so easily was more shaming yet... She felt his bare left hand on her right wrist as he pulled it up behind her back, wondering whhen he'd stripped his gloves off.

"Other wrist, Dinah. In mine," he ordered, and she moved it, feeling his hand close completely around both her wrists--and his elbow settled at the base of her skull, his arm a heavy weight down most of her spine. His other hand slid intimately down her bottom and his fingers slipped between her legs making her cry out in shocked protest--and somehow he found the catches to unsnap her suit unerringly, popping it open with a twist of his wrist and his hand slipped back up her rear, pulling the leather of the corset until he folded the snaps up onto her back, folded leather biting into the curve of her hipbones.... He wasn't done yet, she realized when his hand slipped up under the folded leather, searching a moment--then he caught the top of her fishnets and pulled down, tugging them down until the elastic bit into the backs of her thighs. His hand slid under her body to free the waistband and push it, too, down somewhat--what a picture she had to make, she thought in disgust, angry and shamed almost enough to cry. The first time anyone not her family had seen her so exposed and it was a man she feared who treated her like a possession....

"If you damage my furniture with your Cry, I'll do this every night for a week," he warned her, and she felt a subtle shift in his body just before an echoing crack sounded in the room and fire blazed in her rear--he apparently didn't believe in starting gently--and she tried not to whimper or move. A second blow fell with that same, echoing noise and the other side of her ass warmed--she didn't mean to move, but bucked down against his leg as if trying to get away. His hand tightened on her wrists, just slightly, and a third blow landed, not any harder but against already stinging flesh and she gasped, hair fallen in her face and eyes mouth and helpless to do anything about it as a fourth blow landed and she mewled, trying to buck down away from that merciless hand.

It did no good to squirm, she soon realized, as being so tightly pressed to his thigh only sent unwanted pressure and need through parts of her that did not need to be involved with this! She made her hips shift backwards, felt the other piece of her costume fall away from her body and another slap of his hand drove her forward onto his leg again, trapped and breathing around the hair in her face and another blow fell--that one was harder, quite a bit so and she couldn't help the whimper that burst from her throat at the pain. The next blow fell on her other cheek, then the next was lower, catching part of her upper thigh and she sobbed at the shock, tears she couldn't control starting to fall from her eyes as she twisted her entire body against his hold--to absolutely no avail as his hand tightened on her wrists and his elbow pressed down against her neck and shoulders as yet another blow fell, high on her other thigh. She cried out again and her legs kicked blindly, without effe--not without effect. The pattern of the blows stopped and Slade moved under her, somehow freeing the leg she was laying over to loop it over her legs, shifting his body so her bare belly was pressed to the hard material of his armor and left leg, hips now bent over his left thigh, legs now held down by the hard pressure of his right thigh, armor cold against her skin as his hand fell again, back where he started. She moved, shifting against the cool, hard armor under her, only realizing then that her body was reacting to this in way she didn't want. She cold feel her nipples hard against the top of her corset--and worse, hot wet slickness between her legs, being rubbed against his armor every time she moved and another strike made her sob and pant and twist helplessly in his hold. Another, and another and she was crying, hot tears spilling down her face and she heard herself cry out, "I'm sorry!" 

His hand didn’t stop, "What are you sorry for?" the tone was far too innocent for the man spanking her, making her react to it and she bucked again, sobbing at the complete strength of his hold and her own position, "I'm sorry I disobeyed you!" she forced out around the sobs, twisting against him and three more hard, stinging slaps landed in quick succession--the pain made her cry again, unable to breathe for the sobs and the shame and the wicked, incomprehensible arousal... 

"Good girl," //praise?// she didn't understand, "It's over now, good girl," his voice actually sounded pleased as his hand ran gently over her burning, throbbing ass--god, she wasn't going to be able to sit for a week--and she gasped in shock as his fingers slid along the soaking wetness of her folds and over something that made her scream and thrash and completely lose touch with reality for long, long moments..

She came back to the feeling of his left hand in her hair, her wrists freed and still laying on the small of her back and her costume folded back into place, right hand stroking a thigh gently. She panted and slid a hand up to push the hair out of her face and mouth, feeling her body shaking, unable to even try to look at him. 

"Good girl, Dinah," he said, oddly gently. "It's over. Clean slate again," as though he hadn't just... she didn’t' have the words.

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah finished emptying her stomach as quietly as she could, in one of the smaller side tunnels. It was empty of people, as it had water flowing through it. She was grateful for both the privacy and the water, as it took away the evidence of her badly shaken nerves. She had been so humiliated by the punishment, and yet so afraid of what he might do, that she had slid from his lap to the bed the first time he shifted after speaking of clean slates. It had seemed safest, since he had not ordered her to leave. He left the room, going to tend to something else, and she had remained, trying to find her center. Unfortunately, her thoughts of what had happened kept chasing themselves around until she started crying.

The stress of trying to lead the heroes, and more minor villains they had found, plus her 'punishment', and the crying had combined to make her fall into an uneasy sleep there on the corner of Slade's bed. Slowly, the fatigue and her worry had drug her down quite deep. She had been unaware when Slade returned, throwing a cover over her where she lay, before going to sleep.

Sneaking out of the bedroom had not been possible. From her first shifting at the foot of his bed, he had looked at her in the dimness of the room. She had frozen in place, until he nodded silently, giving her permission to rise. From there, the small woman had all but fled to find privacy, and lost what little she had eaten the day before in disgust at herself.

The sense of privacy was shattered before the heaves of her final loss were over. A warm presence enfolded her in strong arms, just before the person turned her around, so her face was to his chest. She glanced up just briefly at the gentle features, the beautifully feline face, and felt that strong pull of attraction. She squelched it as best she could, knowing this was neither the time nor place to pick up any kind of entanglement. 

"He frightens you; he is the reason you are here now." Vincent kept his voice quiet.

"Vincent," she whispered, laying her head on his chest, as he made her feel safe and warm just by being there. "I only do what I have to. The invaders…what they have planned is very bad, I think. So does he. And we can't just do nothing." She could not believe she was defending the man, not when she still felt dirty from what he had done to her.

"Black Canary," he began, but she pushed her first two fingers against his lips, running her other hand up into his mane. 

"Dinah. Dinah Lance is my real name." She pulled back as she heard the slightest noise in a nearby tunnel.

"I'll protect you," Vincent vowed to her softly.

"Let me protect my people, and don't worry. I can take care of myself." She put her considerable will into making it seem that way, even as she felt a cold chill on her spine at the thoughts of seeing Slade later to coordinate their next attack. With that, the small woman slipped free of the man who pulled at her so intensely.

`~`~`~`~`

The Underground population had grown in the couple of weeks they had been running raids. The community of Underdwellers had helped sift the non-combatants into other warrens, helped the heroes learned to scavenge, and taken care of their injuries when they came in. There had been losses; Volcana and Blue Beetle never came back one night from a raid, and were written off as captured from the reports of other allies. Getting the communications ability they needed had so far eluded them, but the Thanagarians were having a hard time keeping things as smooth as they wanted, as the civilian populace reacted to every heroic upset against them with civil truculence. 

Meanwhile, the dynamic of the heroes and handful of villains stayed fairly static. The villains they had rescued had each seen Slade one time, and opted to hold their peace and stick it out with the group. Black Canary led them, having staved off an attempt by Vixen to question her authority without relying on Atom's reputation to back her up. The model had questioned the wisdom of following a half grown girl playing dress up in her momma's clothes, seeking to provoke an angry reaction from the blonde.

Dinah had merely looked at the group, standing there with the serene calm that she used to help each of the heroes adjust to what they had gone through at the hands of the Thanagarians, and nodded.

"I might be young. And I am proud of my mother, so I do follow in her footsteps with what I wear. But if any of you can lead this group, plan the things that Slade plans for us because of my deal with him, then by all means, I will step aside." She had then walked away, and spoken to Vincent about supplies and ordinary planning of their days' events, unsurprised when most of the Underground resistance force found time to come by and reassure her they would follow her faithfully.

Slade had seen it, of course. He was never far from her. When they went out for supplies or raids, he was on her heels, watching her, studying every move she made. Twice now, he had saved her from capture on their missions, further deepening her debt to him. She did not like it; her body screamed her annoyance at having him near every time she saw him. But as the days turned to weeks, she was being molded by the way he fought, the way he moved in combat. She could move between his flashing sword, his aim, with precision, and it bothered her on a very deep level. The fact he always knew just where to move, to be on the edge of her Cry, or the fact she knew just when to duck so he could clear their opponents was tearing her apart.

It was ten times worse for her when he would watch her with Vincent. The Underdweller was so gentle with her, with all of them. After the third time of trying to reason through her fear of Slade, Vincent had stopped asking her about it. 

Vincent had wanted to push the issue, to try and make the fear leave her eyes, and had asked for advice. Father had suggested that if the young woman enjoyed his company enough to brave the man she feared, all he could do was be there for her. It was not a matter that Vincent needed to get directly involved with.

The blonde was steadily growing more and more accustomed to this edgy life, so much so that when a patrol found one of the entrances to their domain, she did not hesitate to lead a small team up to handle it. She grabbed Vincent's hands in passing, meeting his eyes with particular intensity. 

"Get the team started on blocking the passages. I'll take my team around and back in the other way we discussed." She flowed up against the bigger man, hugging him tight with a quick kiss to his cheek. "Just keep yourself and the others safe until I get back, Vincent." She then ran off before he could fully respond to her impulsive show of affection. Unfortunately, Vincent was further distracted by the glimpse of the black armored man vanishing down the tunnels after her.

`~`~`~`~`

The Thanagarian patrol had been trying to find the rumored costumed resistance for too long. Finding tunnels leading underground, and scraps of armored pieces gave the promise that the hunting would soon be over. They just were unprepared for the battle-hardened heroes and villains to fall on them with savage ferocity and flawless execution. Black Canary herself had eliminated the communication capability, her Cry frying the gear they wore with the practice that Slade had forced on her after each raid yielded more gear to experiment with. 

The rest of the patrol was quickly overpowered, knocked completely unconscious or immobilized by the various gifts of the metas and fighters in the alliance under Black Canary. She then studied the battlefield, and eyed the entrances, hearing the distant rumblings as the tunnels were closed off to this way. She then saw Slade readying his pistol for a silencer.

"No." She jumped over to his side, putting her hand up between them in a 'stop' fashion. "If we kill them, the Thanagarians will step up their patrols, increase the amount of force they use, and possibly start using civilian murders to flush us out." 

"And if I don't they'll come right back here with more forces and equipment to go through the barriers our allies are putting up." Slade kept his eye on her, letting her weigh his logic versus hers. She shook her head. 

"Beast Boy." She turned to the green skinned boy, the one hero with her that had ever helped defeat Slade from those she was working with. "How far can you sling them if you change to a T-Rex?" she questioned, heartened by his bristling at the armored man, and the fact that he did not show any fear.

"Pretty darn far, Black Canary. Want me too?" He was more than eager to please her; it seemed to be his personality flaw.

"Yes. Quickly. Different directions, different distances," she said, but her eyes remained on Slade. His only answer was putting away his weapon, for now. Her plan would work to disorient them and prevent a logical search from occurring. "Everyone else, split up, use the secondary entrances," Canary called to the group, pleased they had all seen her call the shot on this one. It helped keep the image that she, not Slade, was truly in control. She waited with Beast Boy, who was cheerfully flinging Thanagarians with enough force to injure but not likely kill, as they were very tough humanoids. Slade opted to make his own way back now; he had other intentions for the night other than looming over the cheeky little girl hero that let sentiment get in the way of getting the job done right.

"Why him?" Beast Boy asked, once his job was done and they were moving to the most distant entrance. "Why the psychopath of the century?"

"He was here, and he had skills that could be used," Canary answered in a neutral voice. "I did not know much about him, but he seemed to know what he was talking about when we made our deal." Even seeing Ralph and Sue together, happy, as well as the others they had rescued could barely counter the bleak feeling of what she had traded to earn that help.

"I just hope you know he's likely to have a very slippery interpretation of whatever you promised," Beast Boy said ominously.

`~`~`~`~`

Vincent was pleased to see Dinah and the green skinned boy arrive back safely. He had not seen the armored man return, but that did not mean anything; Slade knew the tunnels as well as the Underdwellers, or seemed to. He could feel the blonde's confidence; their mission had apparently gone well, and he had heard rumors that the woman had shown mercy and compassion by preventing the man Slade from killing the enemies. This was not the first time Vincent had heard rumors of Slade being a killer. The heroes did not talk loudly when they discussed the villains among them, but Vincent and his people were a quieter folk, who listened well. 

He saw Black Canary check on each member that had gone up with her, then go speak with Father. Vincent waited until she smiled at the man before he started to walk over, to ask her to eat with him so that maybe, out of sight, she would be off the dangerous man's mind. Father moved away from her just as she noted Vincent's approach, which caused her smile to widen.

"Black Canary." The voice raised the hair at the back of Vincent's neck, and caused the woman he was joining to tense. "I wish to speak with you." The armored man waited in the opening of a tunnel leading to his complex.

"She was about to eat dinner," Vincent surprised himself by saying, putting more force of will behind it than absolutely necessary. "With me and the others." The two men weighed each other's measure from very different perspectives, the air growing very chilly from Dinah's perspective.

"Slade," she began, breaking the staredown. "I will join you after I eat. I need to make sure everyone here is handling things well," she temporized.

The unnerving eye came to rest on her face. He let her linger in anticipation for a good long moment, silently enforcing her promise with hints of dire consequence in his silent nod to her.

"Very well," he said before vanishing back to his haven. Dinah breathed a sigh of relief, before following Vincent for a meal, company, and peace from her fears.

`~`~`~`~`

Her entry into the complex was one of resolve. She would not let the memory of his humiliating punishment control her. She would not let fear keep her from doing her best, from doing what was needed to keep him on their side. They still needed him to get what they needed, if they were to break the invaders' grip on this city.

Then she was breathless, her wind knocked from her as he slammed her hard against the wall of the corridor she was in. She could feel him there, in almost intimate detail, as he held both her wrists in one hand above her head, and he pressed one thigh between hers, stopping her struggles by sheer weight.

"Off guard, girl? Here, in my lair?" he asked her, his voice sliding over her nerves with the sharp rasp of a knife against skin. Just as swiftly as he had pinned her, just as quickly as her mind had frozen and her body had tingled, he was off her, standing just out of reach. "Follow."

"You are a royal bastard," Dinah said, but she obeyed, hating herself as she did, hating that inexplicable burning he made her feel whenever he got close. This time he took her to the training room, a room he had shown her many times, a room that she had learned to hate and then to curse at him profusely. 

"Tonight you will show me your hand to hand style," he indicated, removing his weaponry and placing them in their places on the shelf and wall. 

"Just like every night," she grumbled, moving toward the practice dummy. A small part of her mind reminded that she could see the improvement she had made, under his directed tutelage.

"No." He stepped out into the center part of the training room, unarmed to the naked eye. "By using your skills against me, Black Canary."

She immediately wondered what his ulterior motive was. She had watched him enough to know she stood no chance of truly making him break a sweat. He was just too fast, too skilled, and could read her like a book. "Okay," she began, falling into the stance of readiness, gauging just how she should begin this. 

"Use your full ability, as if this were a matter of life and death, Canary. I want to feel your full mettle." His voice indicated that he might, just possibly, be smiling beneath the mask, and it grated her nerves.

"Or what?" she ground out, knowing he never gave guidance without consequence. 

"I believe you know what I am capable of, if I think you are holding back," he said, his tone curling sinisterly around the words. It was just enough to goad her to first strike, and then the words fell to the wayside.

She launched punches and kicks, blows that he turned aside, twisted from, and caught. His impassive mask was the focus of numerous blows, setting a pattern that she abruptly broke with a blow to his knee that actually landed. That seemed to be his signal, as he stopped reacting, and started his own attacks. 

She was good, a master student to two styles completely at odds with one another, but flawlessly meshed by her spirit. Up close like this, she rarely relied on her voice, knowing he could see her draw the necessary breath more than quickly enough to throat punch her, but she managed short bursts every time she pushed away from him, out of his reach, long as that was. 

How long it lasted, the dance of bodies and violence, Dinah could not have said. She was feeling the burn in every muscle, pulling against techniques she had seen but not perfected to try and hold her own as he pushed her harder and harder, his blows almost viciously rough despite the fact she knew he was holding back. It was frustrating her, to know she was not able to break his defenses at all, that every blow he took merely set her up for one twice as hard. Eventually, the sheer rapidity of his movements made her give up thought and rely on instinct, going into full battle mode.

As if a switch had been thrown, Slade saw the change. The small frame became more lithe, the blows flew with more precision, less analysis. She flowed from place to place within the combat area, evading him on the better part of his blows, fully caught up in the adrenaline of truly fighting.

Now he pushed, opened up a bit more of his ability to slide between the seconds with his thinking. He needed to be ahead of her, planning how her body would move just when. She was good in this state, focused only on the fight, not on the details of who it was she fought. And this, the fire and brilliance and beauty, was what he wanted. He made two quick moves, and then he was on her, taking her down in a controlled fall to the mats.

Dinah's mind whirled from combat to fear to …something she did not want to admit, even in the depths of her mind. She felt the mat's cloying presence, the rough press of armor against her thigh, her hip, her stomach as he kept her down, holding himself up with the support of one arm. the other reached up, stripping back the mask in controlled violence, exposing the face of her tormentor to her.

She gasped softly, seeing a man of mature age, the nicely groomed beard that was white, the patch hiding his empty eye. Her gasp gave him another perfect opportunity, as he leaned in and kissed her, savagely, his tongue sliding inside her mouth before she could even fight it.

She could feel the panic welling up, as he dominated her, the kiss, everything with the sheer power and control that was him. Passion too, she realized, as his kiss probed with a hunger she could feel and understand on a primitive level. Her mind screamed for her to fight to refuse him, but her body burned, feeling the promise of what his offered. 

When he broke the kiss, she could not help the whimpering moan that escaped her, especially when he shifted his weight to the side. His hand that had thrown the mask to one side now reached down, touching her face in a caress that made her shiver. He noted it, but trailed the hand down, taking two fingers to just lightly mark a trail over her chest, just bypassing her heaving breast to follow a line down her stomach, and pausing at her waist. She closed her eyes, whimpering softly at the need burning inside her.

"I hate you," she managed to whisper.

"Do you?" he asked, his voice insanely gentle as he completed the journey, slipping his hand down to the catches of her costume. He smiled as her hips bucked up, pressing her sex into his hand. She bit her lip, ashamed of the rebellion of her flesh. He undid the catches with ease, moving to take her lips once more. His kiss was demanding, his tongue probing those lips until they slipped within, tasting her. She returned the kiss after a long heartbeat, small tears gathering at the corners of her eyes from the surrender. His hand had gathered the band of her fishnets, working them down with infinite care completely at odds with the raw power of his kiss. Dinah moaned as she felt his gloved hand run over her naked thighs once the fishnets were out of the way, as he was pulling back.

"Don't," the blonde whispered, the tears threatening to fall.

"I said I would not rape you, Dinah," he told her, lightly stroking a single gloved finger over her thigh. As he did, she felt the burning shame of her needful shivers. "But is there any reason why you should deny yourself this? When you so clearly want it?" He slowly took his gloves off as he waited for her answer, seeing her eyes searching his face, reading the conflict of desire and humiliation there, but the desire was burning brightly. Every part of her body that he could see was flushed with the need she exuded, the response to his body. With his gloves gone, he leaned in, kissing the corners of each eye to taste the salt there. She lay very still until he took his kisses lower, to her throat with care not to mark her there. The feel of his mouth just above, and then just under her choker, so close to her pulse was more than she could take, as she moaned and tried not to think anymore.

He settled for slipping the tight bodice down, getting her costume bunched between breast and waist, so he could see her, taste her, and touch her. The soft cry when he bit her nipple was more satisfying to him than any sound he had heard from her. That pleasure only intensified when she brought her hands up to push the head piece down, tangling her fingers in his white hair. 

No warning came before his fingers were back on her sex, slipping between the folds to find the hard node there, working it with a skill that equaled his fighting ability. Dinah's tears came silently even as she bucked into that caress, as she clung to the man's head holding him to her breast as he kissed and nipped. The hard, sucking kiss on the underside would leave a mark.

Only a few strokes and she shuddered into release, her voice ringing out in wordless passion. As she tried to catch her breath, he shifted, moving away and up. A tiny part of her mind rejoiced, but her body hungered for the heat of his nearness.

Again, as in the battle of choosing this or leaving, her body won its reward as he knelt between her legs. He had rid himself of the armor, of everything, with seasoned practice, and was now nothing more than a man to her senses. His broad chest was lightly scarred, as were the arms he held himself up on as he laid over her. She tried one more time to protest this, knowing it was wrong even as she reached up to caress his neck with one hand, the other reaching to rest on his hip. 

No thought escaped the locked confines of her mind as he sank deep inside her. There was only feeling, the sheer intensity of his power driving into her. Every flex of his hips, every kiss he claimed, biting her lips, sucking at her tongue, just further gave her body full run to react. She rocked beneath him, whispering for him not to stop. He growled lightly in her ear, just before he rolled them to have her over him. Now she moved more freely, sliding along his shaft to take what he offered, lost in the burn and the need. When he started caressing her clit and breast, she found yet another release, shuddering through it with such strength that he stopped holding back, and let himself take his. She collapsed over him, her face buried in the crook of his shoulder and neck, as he held her in a tight embrace. He knew he needed to get them both cleaned up, while she was still in the shock of it all, but right now, he just wanted to revel in the fire and passion she was.

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah sat in the alcove she had found, staring into the distance with unseeing eyes. She kept her arms tightly around herself, rocking slightly as she felt the tumbling realizations of her previous night. When she had awakened, she had been in Slade's bed, not the gym, and her very sore body was quite clean. Slade himself had been absent, and she had dressed swiftly, fleeing the masculine chamber as quickly as she could.

She had to face what she had done, though, and the more she did, the more she felt lost and helpless. She had had crushes in the past, had wanted to know what it was like between men and women, but her dedication to her role in life had precluded relationships beyond the flirtatious level. She had an image of what it should have been like to meet a man she could not deny, and reality had crashed far short of it.

She squeezed her eyes shut at the burn of tears rising, remembering just how completely abandoned she had felt under his touch. She had hated every touch, every word passed, even as she craved it. Even now, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt, were he to touch her that way again, she'd bend to his will, to ease the burn he caused.

She prayed that having gotten what he wanted, he would not look at her that way again. She did not think she could face herself as it was now, and if she consented to him again….

"Dinah?" The soft, gentle voice was like a stinging slap across the face. Here was a man she had no doubt would have lived up to her storybook romance ideas. She looked up at him with such pain in her eyes that he was instantly moving to her side, crouching near where she sat. "Dinah?" he repeated, concerned that she would not speak. She buried her face into his chest, throwing her arms around him and clinging. He was caught off guard for a moment, before he wrapped her in his own, carefully sinking to the ground to just cradle her close. He was unsure what was wrong, but he found it easy to just hold the small woman. "Talk to me, Black Canary. Tell me what has made you so upset," he murmured, brushing his cheek against her hair as he rocked. He had noticed even after she gave him her real name, it was the name of her costumed identity that she responded to quickest.

"I can't." She sobbed even more into his chest. "I can't. I did this to myself, and I can't tell anyone," she whispered. She drew back, her tear-streaked face utterly tragic in the dim lighting of the tunnels. "Don't touch me, Vincent. You are far too good a man to dirty your hands on me," she told him, wrapping her arms around herself.

"My hands could not be dirty by touching you, Dinah," Vincent said, not understanding, but feeling the panic in her rising. "I have watched you these past weeks, seen your compassion, your bravery, your dedication." He drew her unwillingly back to his protective arms. "The one called Atom tells me you are barely an adult by Above's standards. Yet you have held this team of yours together through all of the turmoil, and freed how many people?"

Dinah froze, hearing his words and letting them sink in. How could she be so petty, so lost in her own misery to lose sight of what was important? All that mattered was getting through the crisis, helping in every way that her heritage and training allowed her to. She relaxed into Vincent's arms and nodded.

"You're right. I belong to them, to those I help. No one else." With those very defiant words, she wiped her eyes and moved back, tossing her blonde hair back. "Thank you, Vincent." Very tenderly, she pressed her lips to his cheek, one hand sliding behind his head into his mane, and the other resting on his chest. The way Vincent leaned into that small kiss, the way his heart thumped hard to feel her strong hands touching him made him grow more confused when she pulled back.

"Where are you going?" he asked softly when she stood fully. 

"To plan a raid that will let us show Thanagar we are not rolling under their heels," Dinah said. Her private thoughts of showing Slade he did not own her were kept to herself. One way or another, she would always be free, and she refused to heel to either his threats or his seductive ways.

`~`~`~`~`

The resolve was tested the instant she set foot in his domain again. He gestured for her to come directly to his side, and had the look of impatience laced through his stance. She opted to come at a leisurely pace, standing just outside his reach.

"I'm picking up a lot of Thanagarian confusion right now, at least from the intonations over the pirated communicators we secured." He was in full mission mode, she noted, relaxing her defiance some. "There probably would not be a better time to strike," he added, showing her the armory they had been planning an assault against for some time.

"You're right. Myself, Vixen, Beast Boy, Atom, you…small force with those explosives you rigged." She forced herself not to hate her new knowledge of tactics and guerrilla training. If he had taken something of hers, it was only fair for her to have gained such knowledge in trade.

"There's a high probability of casualties on this raid," he cautioned. 

"Elongated Man and his wife will keep everyone safe in the tunnels until the League resurfaces."

"You're adamant that those fools will save the day," he chided. She matched gazes with him, and he saw a new found steel in her. (Good, tempered in passion now.) 

"They will. I have faith." She did not break eye contact, making him smile behind the mask.

"We'll see, my little bird." He watched for her to tense, and was impressed that she minimized it to the barest of reactions.

"And when they do, you and I part ways, never to cross paths again," she informed her in the iciest tone she had ever used. He did laugh then, invading her space to press her against the counter they were using for planning.

"You think you can let go of me that easily?" He felt the tremble in her body, could see her nostrils flare at the sharp flare of desire in her, but she forced herself to push at his chest, a useless physical protest in face of his ability, but one that meant more on a psychological standing.

"I already have, Slade. For all that last night did happen, it's all I ever need to experience of you." She gave nothing of her relief away when he stepped back, his low chuckle full of subtle menace.

"But of course, Dinah." He turned back to the business at hand, impressed by the young woman and his own hand in molding her in just a few scant weeks.

`~`~`~`~`

It had been three weeks since the raid on the armory, a raid that had broken into utter confusion as the Thanagarians were demoralized, practically leaderless. In the confusion, the assault team had gotten split apart, and there had been injuries when less disciplined Thanagarians had mobbed the strangers they found in their midst. Dinah found herself down, a war mace aimed just over her head before a single shot rang out, and her attacker fell, dead from the round through his eye. She glimpsed Slade in the shadows, just before reality wavered, and newer, fresher heroes flowed into the battle, rescuing Canary's team.

She had not seen him after the battle. She had no doubt he had made his escape, and that he would stay on top, in the completely evil manner he was capable of. If thoughts of his touch burning her floated in her dreams, her nightmares, she tried hard to keep it to herself. The feisty blonde was feted by her allies for the role she had played, but each of them downplayed the assistance he had given them, trying to spare her the need to explain why she had enlisted a murdering sociopath. 

The injuries of that last raid had kept her in the hospital for two days; when she headed back to the tunnels, Father had apparently moved his enclave. Sometimes, she vaguely felt a stirring of loss, one that was bound up in her own, but like an echo from far away. It hurt to leave New York, but she needed Gotham. She needed to be back in her city, where the shadows comforted and the nights were ruled by the prowl of the Bat.

She knew she was pouting. She knew she had moved past active fear of what the man had done, had shaped her into. Staying in Gotham was beginning to chafe her spirits. 

But he was out there, and she was under life debt to him.

Her frown intensified. She could not hide forever in the city of the Bat. She had to fly, had to be the same wickedly effective crime fighter her uncles had raised her to be.

He would find her, make good on half-hidden threats and promises.

Somehow, as she decided to put action to her thoughts of striking out again, she had a feeling her return to being a hero outside Gotham would only titillate his interest further.

It was several weeks later when she received an invitation to a gathering of the world's heroes. Hers was handwritten, in an elegantly masculine script, and stamped ever so precisely with the sigil of a bat. Her city's protector had deemed her worthy of inclusion in the new Justice League.

Never a team player, but always aware of team dynamics, Dinah immediately accepted J'onn's invitation to discuss any issues stemming from the Occupation. If she was to be in the League, she needed to be at the top of her game, and that was not being haunted by a pair of men, who were such polar opposites.

She would not know until almost a year later that a man embodying aspects of both had his eye on her, that he was gently warned by her counselor, J'onn, to give her space. When she first lay in his arms, and the memories of the two men haunted her, she closed her eyes and buried her face in his chest.

He never pressed, and that was all she could ask for.

`~`~`~`~`

She was a full-fledged League member. She had the love of a good man. Had even left her beloved Gotham City at last to live with him in Star City. Ollie treated her like his princess, and it surprisingly felt right to the hard-core fighter.

Things should have been perfect.

The first thug she had fought and failed to apprehend turning up dead didn't really stick out in her mind. Those gang-busters got themselves killed all the time. She actually saw it as saving their lives when she got them into the prison system.

The second one a few weeks later set her nerves on edge.

The third one in three months had her in full blown paranoia.

She sat in the window seat, dressed in her nightgown and a robe, waiting for Ollie to get out of the shower as she considered events. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe this city was just rougher than Gotham.

Maybe Slade was really out there, reminding her of the life debt she owed him. Reminding her that he had made her, at least partly, into the fighter she was now. She shivered, not in memory of those brutal training sessions, but in memory of that one...

She closed her eyes, still feeling the betrayal of her desire burning, despite having glimpsed the monster he truly was. Slade had twisted her up inside, and left her feeling dirty in the end...and scared.

One day he'd try to collect that debt, and Ollie would be in the way.

It was her never-ending nightmare, one she hid as best she could as her lover came into their bedroom and she went to him.

Outside, in the distance, a single eye gleamed.


	2. Shattered Reflection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the aftermath of a devastating and personal attack, Canary is broken... and Slade despises an imperfect creation.

There were nightmares, of sharp things on skin, unfamiliar hands, harsh cursing…and then gunplay. The gunshots always ended the nightmares, and a single, lensed eye filled her sight, as strong hands took her down from the biting ropes. 

`~`~`~`~`

Green Arrow flinched as the last body was carted out, his jaw tight with the carnage inside. Too much blood, too many bodies…but his Pretty Bird was not among them. Question stood nearby, having been the only hero close enough for him to call as back up the minute he knew Black Canary was missing, not just undercover. Huntress would be there any minute.

"Day at least," Vic said softly as he came to confer.

"She was here; found her choker." Green Arrow held up the evidence bag he had purloined. The item was covered in blood, and he knew it was going to match hers…just like the cut ropes hanging near the man who had been holding a scalpel when his brains were splattered outward.

"Someone came in, killed every single person inside, and walked out with the Bird." Question did not like that thought at all.

"She's alive, then. Just have to pick up the trail." The archer would not rest until he found her.

`~`~`~`~`

There was pain, briefly. Her eyes fluttered open, trying to focus through the dizziness, the blinding fear.

"Calm," her rescuer ordered, and she could not help but obey as a needle slipped into her vein, bringing a new stinging pain before oblivion. "Sleep for now, my little bird," she heard before it fully gripped her.

`~`~`~`~`

Arsenal's face went pale as his mentor arrived in Titan's Tower, looking like he was ready to kill the world. He had never seen Arrow so…emotional, and the fact he had both Huntress and Question at his back was not reassuring. Not when there should have been a blonde right at his side. He'd become close to GA's pretty girlfriend since she started coming around, and she'd been one of his biggest supporters when he wanted to take up his own name. 

"Ollie?"

"Need your help, kid… Someone got Pretty Bird, and the trail ends where they took her from." Green Arrow tried hard to speak calmly, but his voice choked toward the end.

"I've got the scene photos," Question told him, glancing around as other Titans filtered in. "We have it narrowed down to a single operative, highly trained, proficient marksman with both an energy staff and a forty five. From the kill shots, we think he's ex-military, still well versed. We can't find anyone in her rogues that fit the profile."

"Umm…did you say energy staff and handgun?" the small green Titan asked, swallowing hard. "Black Canary, yeah?" 

"Yes," Huntress supplied as all eyes focused on Beast Boy. Nightwing's eyes narrowed under his lensed mask.

"You have got to be kidding me; when did he start taking interest in Gotham's women?" Cyborg demanded, as the original five Titans passed incredulous glances.

"They know each other from during the invasion," Beast Boy squeaked. "I know I told you guys…"

"Refresh us," Arsenal demanded. "If that sociopath has…oh god…" 

"Spill," Huntress demanded.

`~`~`~`~`

Waking meant pain, but this time, it was not clouding her mind so severely. This time, she felt the man, felt him shifting her in the bed she lay upon, his hard chest against her back. It was too much for her mind, as she processed the last man's touch on her and she cried out, her voice hoarse. Tears flowed immediately, a reaction to the pain and the fear.

"Shhh," the male voice said near her ear with an almost silken purr. "You're safe, my little bird…I have you." She sobbed as the arms held her, as she felt the scratch of a beard on her bare shoulder just before lips touched her neck. "You will be fine, now that I have you again."

Her tears continued unabated as her foggy mind placed what her body already knew. The man laying her back among the pillows with such strong hands was Slade Wilson, Deathstroke, the man she already owed her life to.

`~`~`~`~`

Starfire's hand tightened on Nightwing's shoulder as he reacted to the thought. Her Robin had never stopped hunting the man who had been their foe, then their very uneasy ally, and she could feel the tension running through him. "After all this time?" Starfire asked incredulously, "he's come back now?" 

Even Raven's eyes had widened at that thought, and Tempest and Bumblebee looked at their friends in frustrated annoyance as Green Arrow tightened up dangerously. "Who, Beast Boy?" 

"Slade," Nightwing growled, voice darkly dangerous. "BB, run us through it again. Everything." 

"I don't know a whole lot, 'Wing!" the changeling protested. "I wasn't there when she managed to buy his help, by the time I got to them he was already working with her. I tried to tell her he--"

"Damnit, kids, quit talking to each other and tell us who you're talking about, the name isn't ringing bells!" Green Arrow snapped, Huntress looking just as frustrated. 

The Question spoke up, then, and his voice was worried. "Slade Wilson, Arrow. A very dangerous man, by all accounts... and yes. He would fit the profile. Why did I not think of him, I was there," he growled to himself, posture frustrated. 

"Because he went underground," Arsenal spoke up. "Even before we put the teams together, he'd pretty much vanished. We get clues, a hit with his mark all over it or something, every once in a while, but never enough to find the slick son of a bitch..."

"Why now? Why this?" Tempest asked. "He has to know we'll come after him, now that we know he's back..." They'd all heard enough of the stories to know what the man was capable of, even if he'd never run into him personally. 

"Cause he liked her." Gar said, lips tight. "I didn't realize it then, but there was something going on there, they smelled..." he shrugged. "He was with her like he used to be with you, Ro--'Wing. He pushed her, and pushed her, taught her... and man, did he not like it when she got hurt..." 

Green Arrow's jaw was clenched tight through all of it, but to hear that his Pretty Bird...there was no way. "She would not have gotten in thick with a man like what you are implying," he growled out.

"She sought counseling," Question said. "After the Invasion...a lot of people did, but I know for certain she was queued to the Martian for help."

"All I said was he liked her," Gar said, ducking his head down between his shoulders at the furious expression on the older hero's face. "I dunno what was up with her, except he scared her--but then, he scares me, too! She had enough brass to back him down, though. Talked him out of killing--"

"She managed to convince Slade not to kill?" Nightwing sounded almost as stunned as he felt--and was, despite himself, seething inside at that 'like he used to be with you' reference. 

"Yeah, tell me about it," Gar agreed, nodding. "But she did. And he protected her in the last fight, too. So... it's gotta be him." 

"Man, no wonder you can't find her, GA," Arsenal said, shaking his head. "I'll help--"

"We'll all help," Nightwing cut him off. "Any way we can." 

"You said yourself, you've been hunting him for years, Nightwing, what makes you think you'll have any better luck now?" Huntress asked. 

"Because now he's got someone with him. Someone injured, at that. He had to move her, somehow--I'm sure you guys looked at that, though. If he's run down his supplies taking care of her, he'll need more... and, he had to hear about her going missing somehow. If we can find his informant, we might get somewhere..." His fingers were tapping against his thigh as he thought, entire body tensed at the thought of meeting his adversary again, after all this time--even if it was over the blonde that occasionally invaded his city. 

"I can start working the leads for informants to a man like that," Question said. "Huntress, I believe you have the best contacts for supply issues, so try your touch on things at that." The faceless man looked at the woman in purple, who nodded. 

Green Arrow was looking tight enough to snap, but he nodded. "I'll coordinate with the kid…with the Titans here," he said, his voice low and controlled. The pair of adults, and Arsenal, could see just how much this was tearing into his soul.

"If he took the time to come after her, Green Arrow, he'll be taking care of her," Nightwing said, trying to reassure the obviously distraught man at least a little.

"That's not much comfort, kid, but thanks." The older man was imagining so many things, his mind fevered by Beast Boy's revelation that his pretty bird had cooperated with a man who could have created the carnage he had found in that house. 

Nightwing just nodded--he knew it wasn't, but it was all he had.

"GA…" Arsenal caught the man's eyes. "We'll save her." His words penetrated the vivid, brutal things in his head. 

Raven rubbed at her temples with one hand, trying to cope with all of the stress and fear in the room. "I do not know her well enough to search the astral planes for her, but have you not asked the Manhunter to find her? If he counseled her..."

"Point." Green Arrow nodded politely to her, walking away from them. Question nodded to Nightwing briefly, then to Arsenal, before walking out with Huntress in tow.

"Well, Titans," Nightwing said softly, "Looks like we're going to be busy. I'm going to go try running some searches. If anyone's got any brilliant ideas, now's the time..." 

Arsenal shook his head. "I've got nothing, you guys are the ones with the history with him..."

The other Titans started conferring softly, but Gar couldn't help but watch Green Arrow. He replayed the bits he remembered of those scared weeks, hiding in the tunnel system and making raids to free others, to get supplies. That final mission against the Thanagarian armory had been a very close thing for nearly every member that wound up going on it.

Green Arrow tapped his communicator, opening a link to the WatchTower. "Mr. Terrific, patch me through to J'onn…I need his help." He could not keep the pain out of his voice; he wore his emotions rather openly.

"J'onn, I need your help--we can't find Dinah." Despite his best attempt, his voice was harsh with fear and pain.

There was along pause. "I will try scanning for her." He concentrated earthwards with his mind, but continued to speak to Arrow. "She is a strong hero; we will find her. You must be calm."

"You don't know what happened, J'onn, or who we think has her, don't tell me to be calm!"

"For the sake of one you are near, I ask that you try," J'onn said. "There happens to be a strong empath in Titan's Tower." J'onn pieced where Ollie was, then found the other three minds most attuned to Dinah, savoring their impressions of her to build up his own recollections of the woman. "I am seeking now, Oliver…be patient with me."

Ollie grumbled, but tried to calm down. "Sorry, J'onn, it's been a bad few days. Did you catch the news about the Seattle Slasher?"

His words, with the tenuous link J'onn had initiated gave J'onn the depths of what had happened quite quickly. "She went missing pursuing a lead. And then you found her…but she was not there, and the culprits are dead." J'onn shuddered at the capacity for violence the humans had. His mind flicked through all the minds he had ever touched on Earth…but there was no high, sweet song of the one they sought. He tried again, filtering out the links he had made one by one, shutting them out of his awareness and resolutely calling on the counseling bond he had been forced to use. There…a heartbeat, a slow pulse of blessed unconsciousness. "She lives…but more, I cannot say."

"You've got it," Ollie agreed as J'onn searched, then sighed with relief at the confirmation that his pretty bird was at least alive, that they weren't just searching for her body. As long as she was alive, they had a chance to get her back, "Oh, thank god. Thank you, J'onn." Then he asked, "Anything about where, J'onn? Can you..." he hunted for the words he wanted, "feel how far away she is, or anything?" He didn't know how the Martian gift worked, but the question was worth the try.

"She is unconscious. There is the barest hint of pain being repressed from outside sources. I will maintain an awareness of her but that is all I can do until her eyes give me an impression of where." He did not like even having to do this much; the link had existed for therapy, but he could hope she forgave him for using t to help he search.

Ollie sighed, but if he couldn't do more, he couldn't. "All right, J'onn. I... thanks. I'm going to go tell the others she's alive." If he stayed on the comm, his temper was likely to get the best of him.

"I will alert the League," J'onn said. "We will all be on the look out."

"Thank you. If anyone sees Slade, give us a scream. The Titans think he came to get her."

That produced a small…not sound, but something, like a presence almost. "Indeed?"

"Yeah, given the weapons used to kill her captors, Beast Boy tagged to him, and from what the kid said, it sounds pretty damn likely. Any thoughts on that?" 

"That you and the other searchers may wish to use caution. I have not encountered him, but she..." J'onn worked around the mind impressions he had taken from her, in order to help her cope with a situation that had compromised her ethics and her sense of self-worth. "He is very skilled at reading people."

"J'onn, I'm not asking for her secrets, I know better. I'm just asking you if you think he might have come after her, or if the kids have us barking up the wrong tree. We can't waste the time chasing shadows; she doesn't have it! So quit being so damned cagey and answer the question, would you?"

"He would." There was absolute certainty in his voice. "And she knew it."

//She knew it?// the thought lanced through him like a lightening bolt, nearly stealing his ability to breathe. "A--anything more you want to say about that?" He tried to keep his voice under control, and knew he failed miserably. //J'onn, tell me you didn't mean that the way it sounded...//

"There was a pact made, and she gave me reason to understand that it did not end when the invaders left," J'onn said, feeling that did not violate the privacy too much.

"Oh," was all the shaken man could say. "There's... some kind of debt there, then?" That... was a little better, pulled him away from where his mind had gone...and he wanted, so desperately, to ask if ((not if, Queen. Just how badly...)) the mercenary/assassin had hurt his pretty bird... but J'onn would not answer even if he did.

"I cannot even answer that first." J'onn sighed softly. "As soon as I have any impressions of her, you will know."

"Thanks, J'onn. Hopefully I'll talk to you soon." He ended the call, shaking his head as he headed back towards the kids, having wandered further away as he spoke to J'onn. 

Arsenal took one look at his face and crossed to him in long strides, putting a hand over his shoulder. "What is it, Ollie?" voice soft so as not to carry.

"It is Slade. He's pretty damn certain…some kind of thing between them, a debt or something." //All it was, a deal they made…nothing more…oh Pretty Bird…//

"Shit... well, that's something. Did he... could he find her?"

"Says she's unconscious, and he can't get more," Ollie told the young man. "Roy…She's my life, much as you are." He looked over at the other Titans, noted Gar trying not to watch them. "We've got work."

"I know, Ollie," Roy nodded, holding on to that shoulder. "At least she's alive, huh?" He nodded, settled himself. "You're right, we do. Come on, old man, you need to brief us on everything you know. 'Wing'll be listening from the control room, since he's already playing computer wizard."

"Alright, Sp…Arsenal." Ollie drew himself together as best he could.

`~`~`~`~`

When she woke next, he was touching her again, and she flinched violently. 

"Be still, Dinah," he commanded. "Your wounds must be dressed again." He continued what he was doing, despite the fact she cringed every time he moved to a new wound to work on. "How much pain do you feel now?"

"Some," she admitted, her voice marginally better. Her arm itched, she noted, and it made her see he had her on an I.V. drip. "Why am I here?" She never asked if he had been behind it; if he had been, it did her no good to know it for fact. But she did want to know why he had touched her life so directly again. It had been two years since he saved her life, since she lost sight of him. There had been times over those two years she had felt a paranoia that he was near, waiting to claim the debt she owed him. 

"You no longer reflect what I shaped you into, little bird…you let common rapists and murderers overcome you," he told her, his eye focusing on her face to see the flush of shame spread, to see her eyes darken. He could feel her vibrating with intense fear, caught between the fight or flight instinct as her recent experience heightened the conflict of emotions she had felt toward him in their alliance.

"I have my own life; I'm not that child you knew in New York," Dinah protested, trying to summon her bravado against the fear, against the ingrained responses welling up. He did not permit the smile he felt to touch his lips.

"I disagree, Dinah. Even that child would not have been taken so easily, would not have been reduced to a helpless captivity." He could see the spark of her fire, but what she had suffered was threatening to snuff it out. Her entire body flinched beneath his hand, and she looked down against tears.

"What game do we play this time?" she whispered, trying not to cower overtly, but fast shrinking in on herself.

"That will be for you to learn, if you can." He settled her back, bringing the sheet up to cover her.

`~`~`~`~`

J'onn had felt several flickers along the link but nothing he could pinpoint. When he did finally trace it to a conscious mind, the whirlwind chaos he found there was too primal to truly read. It took time to work within the intermittent conscious periods over those first two weeks before Dinah was fully conscious for more than half an hour at a time.

When he was able to insert a query to her, trying to learn where she was, her mind slammed shut on him, with only one parting warning. 

{"Too dangerous."}

`~`~`~`~`

The next time he came in to find her conscious, despite sedation, she was standing with the sheet wrapped around her.

"Clothes. I want clothes." She fixed her gaze on him, none too steady but not willing to remain visible to his gaze anytime he wished.

"Earn them." His voice was coldly neutral. He stepped into her space, watching her cringe with disdain. He reached out to pull the sheet back, smelling the blood on her from her efforts to stand. 

Her left hand caught his, despite the effort it cost her, in strength and speed, as well as willpower to consciously touch him. "I can tend them myself," she informed him, only a bare hint of a tremor in her scratchy voice.

"Supplies are in the top drawer." He walked back out, returning ten minutes later with a very large shirt, and a pair of shorts with a drawstring. He left them for her, making no move to assist her, and she slowly investigated what he had brought. Her hands shook violently as she smelled him on the clothing, and knew he was marking her again as his property, a continuation of unpaid life debts from the Invasion. It was almost enough to make her not seek him to change the bandages she could not reach…but that would have only led to further weakening her.

`~`~`~`~`

Green Arrow roared his frustration, as the third lead they had followed ended in a battle against robots and then nothing for reward. They had not found any tangible evidence of Dinah yet, and even J'onn was frustrated from the force of will the woman was using in hiding her mind from him. He could not bring himself to warn Arrow that the longer they took to find the woman, the more likely she would be far different when they did. He had counseled her as he might counsel the victim of Stockholm's Syndrome, and he worried that she would be falling back under the charismatic sociopath's sway again.

Question had not been able to help alleviate the other man's worries. What he had recalled of those weeks in New York had only confirmed the appearance of Dinah being very much indebted to Slade, and caught up in a power struggle of a personal nature with him. Even worse, though Question typically was an excellent observer, there had been too many things keeping him from being close to the pair outside of the missions they had run, the raids and scouting.

All in all, it was a frightening task to hold Oliver Queen together, and one Helena and he had sworn to do, even if their hunt proved fruitless. He was, after all, their only true friend outside the Canary.

`~`~`~`~`

Slade looked up as Dinah walked into the office where he was looking over contracts. The blonde stood with her back as straight as she could, considering she still had deep cuts healing along the spine. 

"You brought me here; you have a reason. I want to bargain with you now, for the terms of my freedom." Her voice was even, low, and full of determination. Slade repressed the urge to move just then, to test her reaction to him being inside her space. He would let her 'bargain'.

"Our original deal had you as mine until the end of the crisis, or you earned your freedom." He watched her nod. "As I saved your life at least three times, I'd say your freedom was never earned."

"I know," she acknowledged. "I understand the concept of life-debt. But you let me go, you left, and let me choose my own life."

"True. Like another little bird, you had learned all you could from me, at that time, and I was pleased with how well you reflected my shaping of your skills." Slade leaned forward across the desk. "Then you let some cocky Robin Hood come into your life, and I wind up having to save your life again."

"He would have come for me," she maintained.

"Too late. He arrived at the scene the day after I did. You would not have lived more than a few hours from when I cut you down." He watched her flinch at that verbal reminder of how helpless she had been. 

"You're angry with me, because I don't show what you trained me to be?" she questioned, steering away from the thoughts of Green Arrow, praying her warning to J'onn had been enough.

"You know you miss that strength," Slade said casually, now rising and coming around the desk. She took a step back, by instinct, as he stepped into her space. "You hated what they did to you. Every time you look at those cuts, you hate yourself. And you hate the fact that you know you'll never let your man touch you again without feeling fear." His hand shot out, tangling in her hair and forcing her close to him, gauging how much of her tension was fear at him, fear from what had been done to her, and what might just be anger. Unfortunately for her, very little anger shone in her terrified eyes.

"Please…"

"You will not leave here until you are whole again, Black Canary. Skills and strength of will." He pulled her head back by the grip in her hair. "When you can come to me willingly on any level, then I will let you fly again." He let her go as her tears overflowed her control on them. "Go back to your room." He stepped away, casually dismissing her, and letting nothing show in his voice. When the door had closed, he walked to a monitor, flicking it on to see when she arrived in her room. The woman collapsed on the bed, curling up in a fetal position, and he grew even angrier. 

Somewhere under the fear, there had to be fire. It had flared here and there, but was too close to being extinguished. If that came to pass, Slade would eliminate the husk it had left behind, rather than let a failure of his live.

`~`~`~`~`

Huntress reached the living areas first, praying against hope that they had moved fast enough. The first solid lead in three weeks, a full six since Dinah's initial disappearance, and they had encountered an entire cadre of HIVE soldiers. As soon as they had proof of habitation, Helena had sliced past defenses, trying to reach the back areas, hoping to put an end to this quest.

Two private rooms, one elegantly masculine…one spartan and bearing all signs of very recent habitation. She saw a cup on the nightstand and investigated. As soon as her hand touched it, she clicked the communicator on.

"ALL Heroes! Spread out! Recently departed the A.O.!!!" she called. "I repeat; target is recently on the move!!!"

Every Titan, every member of the League Taskforce disengaged as best as they could, taking tunnels blindly, trying to find the route used by their target.

Inside the spartan room, Huntress set the still warm teacup down and took her time investigating. What she hoped to find, she was unsure, until she found a brush in the bureau's upper drawer. The long blonde hair caught in the tines made her heart leap; maybe at last, they would have their missing fourth home.

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah quivered against Slade's body as he held her close, hand over her mouth as a precaution. Every so often, he failed to fully anticipate the resourcefulness of his former nemeses, the Titans. He knew good and well this particular base, the third one he had brought Dinah to during her sedated sleeps, should not have shown as being connected to him. Unless someone had infiltrated the HIVE, which now seemed entirely too likely.

Dinah thought about struggling, about fighting him off. She would cry out for help, and they would come, maybe reach her before Slade could kill her…and she would prove him right, that she was too weak to survive on her own. She knew it was pride that mingled with her fear, keeping her still as Titans passed right over their hiding place. She was trembling, still unable to block out the feeling of his hands on her, of the fact his body was pressed tight against hers. No more cuts remained, and she had been gaining grudging comments as she trained again, showing her body was still strong despite the various wounds that had been inflicted.

But when it came to her being touched, by any man? She could not bear it. Some of his underlings had made that mistake. The first time, she had shied so violently from the man, Slade had jerked her up against a wall, his hand tight on her throat, eye blazing with anger. The second time, Dinah had forced fear to action instead, and almost crippled the man's arm. That had gotten her a new set of privileges; she had the right to train in the gym alone, rather than just when Slade was available.

The third time had shown her just how sharp he was capable of honing her reflexes, as the underling was down and gasping for air before she had fully processed the move. Of course, her reaction to that had earned her a very severe pounding in the gym, as her teacher scornfully denounced her 'soft heart'.

Through it all, though, Slade had been touching her. Every time, she flinched, but not once had she attacked him, or cringed fully away. She put it down to the fact she knew that such actions would lead to far worse ordeals.

In the pit of her stomach, she feared the idea that it was because, in the long run, she did trust him, so long as she walked his chosen path for her.

`~`~`~`~`

Roy snatched the bottle away from Ollie and threw it as hard as he could, shattering it against the kitchen wall.

"That shit is the same as giving up, old man!"

"I'm not giving up!" Ollie roared right back, standing unsteadily.

"You can't even see straight; what if a lead turned up right now?!"

"It wouldn't pan out anyway!!!" As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Ollie turned ash-white, and buried his face in his hands. Roy came over to his side, laying an arm over his shoulder.

"Come on, Ollie. Let's go get you sobered up in the gym, then we'll hit the trails again."

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah stared in triumph at the bruise rising along Slade's jaw. It had been a grueling session, and she had been pushed harder than ever before. He stood still, raising a hand to wipe at the fleck of blood from the corner of his mouth. His eye remained fixated on her as she drew in a deep breath, getting control of her body and her lungs from the effort that had taken.

"Good solid blow," he complimented. "A very basic punch, in the midst of your speed and footwork. Impressive."

"Your level…I never would have been able to tag you before," she said, as calmly as she could.

"I said any level." He remained as calm as she was trying to be, as her eyes flashed on their different interpretations of 'any'.

"I can fight you 'til I drop now! I can almost see a strategy as quickly for any scenario you give me!" She was growing very angry. "I'm every bit as good as I was after you interfering in my life before!"

She found herself blocking, or attempting to, his hand shooting out to catch her throat, raising her up to her toes. "If you can match me on any level, any level at all, prove it," he growled, moving to where his face was right there in hers, eye to eye. She grabbed at his wrist for support, trying to control the fear, letting the anger overcome it.

Then he leaned in and claimed her mouth, giving her enough slack to stand, but still holding her there, and her mind snapped away from thinking. The pure instinct to get away was focused by her recent intensive training, but in the end he had her pinned under him, her hands up over her head, a growling purr in his throat.

"Do you really, really want to see the look in your Robin Hood's eyes when you flinch away from him? Or worse, strike out and injure him?" he taunted. "You have one more level to attain." With a fluid motion he rolled from her, and rose, walking away without a single glance back. She pushed up and over, legs turned behind her, leaning on one elbow as she hammered at the floor with her other fist.

`~`~`~`~`

"It could NOT be that simple." He stared at the deeds, the supporting witness reports, and the telephoto snapshot of the mercenary walking into the modest German house. He grabbed his comm., calling for a full assembly to meet at the T-Jets. "Potential location, but it's out of country," Nightwing told them all.

"Where?" Arsenal asked, pulling out a phone. Nightwing gave him coordinates, and he set about getting special permission to work a meta case, internationally for them. Next to him, Green Arrow was all but chomping at the bit, ready to go, fight, and pray that they had last found the bastard who had stolen his Pretty Bird.

`~`~`~`~`

Dinah finished brushing her hair, then stared at the mirror. The key to her freedom lay in her hand, if she could just make herself use it. It had been one week, seven full days since he had told her the way to be free. And every night, once she knew he was in was in the house, she lost her nerve about going and using that knowledge. They would eat dinner after a sparring session, then each retired to separate quarters. Not once had he entered her space outside of their still grueling training sessions. 

"No more." She looked at what she was wearing, a long, soft shirt he had given her early in her captivity, and decided she'd have no point of return if she took off the pants here. With a shaky hand, she pushed the pants off, grateful the shirt fell to mid thigh. She tried not to let her hand shake any more as she opened her door, walking down the hall to the master bedroom, grateful for the late hour and shadows.

"Point of no return, Dinah…do this, he sets you free, you get to go home and try to never ever let Ollie know." She did not even knock, turning the doorknob and slipping inside before stopping to let her eyes adjust to the pale moonlight coming in the broad windows.

"Good evening, Dinah," he said, his voice both civil and seductive, like silk on her raw nerves. "What brings you to me at so late an hour?" She saw him rise up on one elbow, watching her from his bed.

//Bastard. Don't make me play games.// "Our…conversation." She tipped her chin up. "I meet you here, I go free," she reminded.

"You stay the night here, and I take you somewhere safe in the morning," he retorted, and she sighed softly.

"Reasonable." //Of course I have to prove it beyond just the act alone…maybe he'll let it go at me being in his bed?// Unbidden, thoughts of his hands and mouth on her once before came to mind, and she flushed at that raw passion he had shared with her. //No, it will be all the way.//

"Should we move to the gym to make this a little more familiar?" he inquired, and she could not help the raw shiver that flowed over her.

"We started that dance in your bedroom too," she responded, pleased her voice remained even and noting the slight curl of a smile grace his lips. She made herself cross the floor, getting into the bed on the side opposite him. It was only when he made a long arm and drew her to him that she shook violently, remembering again…

"No, Dinah…you will not get this far and fail me," Slade growled softly. "You are stronger than this." He pulled again, and she folded to him, hiding her face in his shoulder, feeling vulnerable as he stroked a hand down her side, over her flank.

"Why do you demand so much of me?! Why am I this obsession for you?" she asked softly, trying to focus away from his touch, to distract her mind. 

"Because you gave yourself to me in ignorance of who I truly was…and still thrived." He moved to lean up over her, one leg lying over her thigh as he did so, and he watched as she struggled to not fight him. "You became an almost perfect student…who was I to let that perfection be tarnished?"

She blushed, despite herself, as his praise went straight to her feelings of self-worth. She'd only been a naïve rookie on the global scale when she marched into his den…and through her deal with him, they had saved a lot of civilians and costumes both from the Thanagarians, creating a distraction that had, like other resistances worldwide, aided the League in breaking the Thanagarian hold.

Seeing the crimson of her flush in the moonlight, Slade smiled and bent in, his mouth finding her throat near the pulse point, tasting her skin. She shivered again, and he caught her hand that started to push at him, holding it to one side. Her gasp as she flexed against him made him growl softly for her to be still.

Dinah felt a deep panic; she knew she could fight…but she also knew she would be no closer to escaping him. If she managed to get free of him without fulfilling the deal, he would hunt her down, possibly hurt the people she loved. She took a deep breath in, forcing her body to go still for the moment, before drawing her free hand up to the back of his neck. Actively choosing to touch him felt so right, reminded her she could choose something, and it made her meet the kiss he gave her next with openness. 

It never even passed through her mind to question the way he gave her the lead after that, letting her move to be over him, reintroducing herself to how it should feel with a man. Her light explorations of his body grew more determined, as every brief fear she found was shoved ruthlessly under, and she made herself see it as taking advantage of his desires.

Slade let her do just that, using only the same amount of aggression as she gradually brought to bear in his own touches and kisses. When his ears caught the faintest hint of a stealth jet landing, though, he turned her back under his body, testing just how far she truly had come. The blonde threw her head back, moaning softly, firmly entrenched in the pleasure they were sharing, the fear pushed far away.

`~`~`~`~`

The international nature of their mission weighed on Arsenal as he reinforced the need for stealth over brute force. Their heavy tanks waited for them, as he and Nightwing matched Green Arrow and Huntress in infiltrating the house. The ones on the outside would not let anyone escape the house…one way or another, they would capture Slade and find Canary.

There was one brief struggle, as Huntress stumbled onto the room with Slade's aide de camp, Wintergreen. The older man was quickly subdued, though Huntress had reason to remember another elder Brit as she did so. 

A junction in the hall upstairs led to a division of forces. Arsenal took Huntress with him to the left, and the other two went right. Ollie's ears perked up at the soft sounds from the last room. There was definitely a woman in there…

Nightwing felt a hard, cold ball of fear and anger developing in the pit of his stomach as those sounds hit his ears…and abruptly crescendo-ed into a wordless cry in a woman's voice followed by a voice that haunted his dreams.

"Yes, Dinah...set it all free…my perfect bird again…" he purred.

Ollie froze in mid-motion, unable to believe what he had just heard, unwilling to accept the sound of her continuing to cry out…not in pain, but in pleasure, as Slade's voice took on the unmistakable sounds of a man also reaching his climax. It was Nightwing moving, the sound of Nightwing's primal growl that helped him shake it free, so that he had Nightwing's back when the door shattered in under a well-placed kick.

Slade, drew in a tight breath, protectively holding Dinah to his chest when she screamed and clutched at him from the intrusion, glad she had hidden her face…for now. 

"Such ill manners," Slade said calmly, though he knew his voice was still laced with the pleasure his 'student' had just shared with him. He looked over his shoulder at the pair, unflinching at the sight of either the nocked arrow or the birdarang. "Surely you could be decent enough to withdraw while the lady covers herself?"

"Slade…" That tortured sound held so many emotions, as Nightwing struggled with what he felt. He had not seen his nemesis in over two years, not since Slade escaped from the Trigon battle, after aiding them in beating the demon. In that time, Dick had never stopped searching for the man, obsessed by finding him, he thought, to bring to justice. Seeing him with a woman, a woman he had just called his perfect bird…there was a pit of so many black, jealous emotions in his heart right now.

"Nightwing…very interesting company you keep these days," Slade said, shifting as Dinah did , controlling what he felt as she pulled away from him bodily, letting her take the cover she grabbed for. Now she looked around him, eyes scared, and saw who was there with a growing feeling of complete disaster.

//One more day…and I would have been free, by my own efforts, and you never would have known.// That thought, more than any other kept her from falling back in the despair she had felt at first recognizing Ollie standing there, watching her every move. Her helplessness at the situation only lasted long enough for her to glance at Slade, and let the anger well up.

"You knew," she accused softly.

"Go dress…and go home," he commanded, sweeping off the bed in a smooth movement that took him to the bathroom, with neither rescuer doing more than track his motion.

"Slade you have to answer for this!" Nightwing shouted.

"No, no he doesn't," Dinah said. She bundled her cover around her, walking forward, a small dose of fear in her heart as Ollie had yet to say a word. "Let it go." 

"He kidnapped you, twisted you…" Ollie finally said, willing to put this down as his manipulation. She slowly dropped her eyes.

"Let me go get dressed…and I won't press charges, Nightwing, so let it go," she told him, not meeting Ollie's eyes again.

Ollie made a half-hearted effort to follow her, but she closed the door to her //her?!// room, and that ended any attempt he could make at putting it completely down to manipulation.

Nightwing stepped further into the room as Slade came out of the bathroom in a towel. "Still here, Kid?" That singular eye raked the skintight suit with appraisal, lust, and appreciation. 

"I know where you are now…I'm not going to stop until I take you down," Nightwing said in a fierce, deep tone. Slade merely laughed, finding his pants beside the bed and drawing them up, letting the towel drop first. He did not have to be looking at the young man to know just where his eyes were.

"I look forward to our matching wits, Nightwing…it has been sorely missed," Slade promised him with pure seduction in his voice. To the young man's credit, he made it out of the room without truly betraying the surge of want he felt, but he suspected he was in for a rough game of it now from the man who haunted his thoughts.

`~`~`~`~`

It was Roy who insisted that Dinah go to J'onn for counseling, as he watched the gulf between his father figure and the woman he loved widen on the trip back to the States.

"We're concerned…we can't know what happened, there or …or while he had you," Roy said.

"He rescued me." Her quiet voice sent chills over Dick and Roy both, but Ollie flinched at hearing that. "He came, he did what no one else had been able to, and he took me away from it."

"We were coming," Ollie hissed.

"Maybe I would have lived one more day, Oliver…maybe not. But what happened…what you saw…" She bit her lip to keep from saying more and turned away.

Roy watched as Ollie's face knotted in pain and anger both. "Dinah, just…just to be sure, talk to J'onn. Please."

"I will."

`~`~`~`~`

J'onn looked up as Ollie came in. He had been expecting this, ever since he advised Dinah to go back to Gotham, to give herself some time and space to get her life straight.

"Tell me, Big Guy, am I an idiot to still love her?" Ollie paced the small room, trying to hide that his mask was refusing to stay sealed against the tears. "I mean, what kind of guy can face that, and feel about as big as a mouse, and still want that woman in his life?"

"A good man with a heart big enough to recognize that life does not always play by the conventional rules." J'onn kept his face impassive. 

"If she'd just see that she was pressured…that he manipulated things…"

"She knows that," J'onn replied. "But it is not … this Stockholm's I see in your mind." The alien had to search for the right way to say it, and not trample on Dinah's privacy. "When she is ready, will you be open?"

Ollie turned, looking at the big alien with a surprised look.

"You're telling me to be patient, to let her come to me? What if she doesn't?"

"She won't, unless you show she has reason to."

`~`~`~`~`

He showed up with flowers, and she opened the door. It was awkward, and neither knew what to say at first. He knocked over the vase, and she reached out as he did to catch it…and their hands touched with electric feeling. She blushed, noting that she neither trembled from it nor backed away…and knew no matter what methods he had used, Slade's ruthlessness had done more good than harm for her.

If only it had not hurt Oliver so much.

"He came, because he takes pride in his work, and a lot of what I have used the past two years…he taught me," she began. "I was…very messed up, Ollie." She sat slowly in a chair and he took the floor, leaning against her leg as she talked. "He kept me sedated a lot those first couple of weeks…then made me earn my way back up from being just his captive."

"Bastard," Ollie growled, but she placed a hand on his arm.

"You would have coddled me, gotten Vic and Helena to stay with me whenever you couldn't be there," she said softly.

"Probably…given you time to heal, brought you back into things slowly." He looked up to see her shaking her head.

"He knew I would have died inside from that." She stroked his beard gently. "I needed to be made to fight, to work through the helplessness, to learn for myself that I could be stronger, that I would only be continuing their power over me by letting the fear rule."

"But…"

"I would have let you take care of me…and it would have killed us in the long run." Dinah drew in a deep breath. "By the time I could land a blow on him, I knew there were going to be serious problems when I got home…and he saw them too. He doesn't care much for you, by the way, but he knew I was coming right back to you."

"Son of a bitch better not cross my path again," Ollie grumbled, still feeling lost to know she was seeing this other man as her savior.

"I know it galls, Ollie…but believe me, I'm more that woman you loved than ever." She straightened her back in the chair, her voice brisk. "I was going free the very next morning; you never would have had to know, baby…I never could have told you, but at least I would not have flinched away from you either."

"I…could have dealt with that," he said, desperate to erase those sounds, that image from her memory.

"But could I?" Dinah sighed softly.

"Was he…before…"

"Once," she admitted. "It's…not an easy thing, to have that behind me. But I could no more have pressed charges on him, than I could have freed myself from what happened."

Ollie looked up, hurting, but hope in his eyes. "So where are we?"

"I want to still be yours," she told him softly, and she felt the truth of it in every fiber of her being. "If you can forgive what I bartered to try and free myself."

He looked at her a long moment, his mind snapping over every moment they had shared, seeing in her the harsh light of true independence, trying to imagine what it must have been like to lose that independence…


	3. Futures Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A group called the Sherwood Bandits lead Batman to the elusive Shrike... Slade's lasting legacy.

_New Gotham, just after Starro's gambit_

Terry waited until they were in the air, glancing down once at Bruce, before he flicked his eyes at the reflection of the commissioner in the cockpit window.

"I am curious why I'm flying you to Star City," he mentioned, trying to crack the gloom around the woman he had come to respect.

"McInnis, you probably don't want to know. It's all old history." The commissioner looked out to the clouds.

"Try me. I know it's in regards to those so-called Sherwood Bandits," Terry hazarded, watching the woman flinch.

"Alright. It's a small flight, so listen to an old woman talk ancient history." She drew in a deep breath. "We did not learn much of this until later, but the back ground is important."

`~`~`~`~`

_The Past_

It all began in the aftermath of Darkseid's invasion.

Green Arrow had begun it. "Umm, we were thinking…"

Question had picked up as his chum faltered. "With the world almost ending the other day…"

Green Arrow had cleared his throat, unfolding his palm to reveal a ring, just as Question had done. "If you might," the archer began.

"Marry us?" Question's blank face had hidden his nervousness while Green Arrow had sweated through it, as the blonde and brunette lady vigilantes had passed a look.

"That has to be the most original example of having your buddy's back," Huntress had snarked.

"But we do accept," Black Canary had answered for them both.

`~`~`~`~`

One couple had gone to Star City, the other to Coast City. Children and secret identities were well guarded, and it seemed that at least one couple was quite rocky. Green Arrow had resigned the League, but Canary remained in it, and both argued publicly over how to deal with street level crime and the growing threat of rogue metas.

What no one knew at the time was just how much a charade it was. The two couples were building a network of human and low level meta heroes on the West Coast, keeping wary eyes on the growing balance of power in the League, and elsewhere. It was seven years after the Invasion when it should have been seen. Nightwing had fully abandoned his former allies, withdrawing deep into Bludhaven with Starfire, and the Outsiders, a team made mostly of former Titans that had disbanded. Arsenal vanished out west, and showed back up just as Black Canary fully quit the League in outrage over how the junior team had been handled.

Three years later, the entire hero world was thrown into disarray by the arrival of a hero from far in the future. Impulse, as he was called, warned many that a Crisis was coming. He wasn't believed, and fell into the hands of the world's most dangerous sociopath. Lucky for him, the sociopath had a daughter willing to turn to the side of the angels, though with dubiously blood stained hands. The government gave Rose Wilson a full pardon and a new identity with Impulse, in protection, after she murdered her father and gave up the entire organized meta crime ring.

As the information seeped into the hero community, the West Coast alliance of Question, Green Arrow, spouses, and Arsenal took a beating in image. They were regarded as loose cannons, stirring up fires, when the majority of the villains had been laid low in cataclysmic battles following the murder of Deathstroke. Eventually, the hero community that remained, as so many had quit in the Crisis aftermath, cut ties with the West Coast team entirely.

`~`~`~`~`

_Present ___

__The commissioner grew quiet, thinking to herself, and Terry respected the silence. He knew about the Crisis, knew how the hero and villain communities had been devastated. That was part of modern history after all. Then the commissioner started again, this time with personal inflections._ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

___Twelve years after Darkseid's Invasion_ _ _

__Batgirl could not meet the eyes of her childhood friend. The woman holding the broken body was too full of such raw pain, so barely in touch with her reality that Batgirl had no answers. If she had come three days ago, when Black Canary first called her, would the man still be alive? She watched as the medical teams lifted the shattered, barely living Question into a truck. She had already seen Huntress into one. But no one could get Black Canary to let go of her husband, even as her own life seeped from numerous wounds. Not ten feet from them, Circe was being body bagged, her neck broken, and something told Batgirl those bruises would match the forensic marks of Canary's small arm around her neck. They had already found Hector Hammond's body, his giant head crushed in a collapse of a building. Sinestro was still alive, every finger in his ring hand broken and many other wounds to recover from._ _

__"Canary," Batgirl began, crouching near them, reaching out. The blonde focused on her blankly. "Dinah…" Memories of growing up a cop's daughter, of playing with other cops' kids, of this girl in particular, who had become something more than a friend, something just less than a lover…_ _

__"You didn't come. You picked him over me! When I needed you!" The bleeding woman turned hate filled eyes toward the cowled redhead. "Damn you, Barbara. Rot in that hell he festers in." She turned her face away, but this time, she let the EMTs take her husband, let them put her on a gurney._ _

__Within the week, both Huntress and Question died. Barbara Gordon had tried to reach her friend, but the woman had merely looked through her as if she did not exist._ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

___Present_ _ _

__"…it was a few years later we found out both couples had children. Cissie Queen was the youngest every gold winner in archery…and she dedicated her medal to Black Canary and Green Arrow. I tried then to reach Dinah again, to try and pull her back into the hero community. The courts had called her actions justified, and her name was clear, but…"_ _

__"I take it that did not go well."_ _

__"No, Arsenal would not let me in the house. He was not at that battle because he was taking care of the children, and he had taken care of Canary ever since it seemed. He had reason to hate me from our mutual involvements in Nightwing's life, and apparently Canary never let her anger die either."_ _

__"Okay…long history lesson. And I can guess this all boils down to the Sherwood bandits following the motif of Green Arrow's Robin Hood shtick." Terry drew in a deep breath. "Why go try to see her now?"_ _

__"Because the Bandits are moving very close to that line we don't cross. And I owe it to her if they have some connection back to her." The commissioner shifted slightly. "Before they kill, or get someone killed, she deserves a chance to stop them."_ _

__"Good point."_ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__Any other time, Barbara might have been envious. As the man opened the door and his red hair blazed in the afternoon sun, she considered all that had happened in her life, taking the bright hue from her. Somehow it seemed appropriate, as she had long ago decided bright red hair had no place in her shadows._ _

__"Ars…Roy? May I come in?"_ _

__"I'd rather you didn't," the man told her gruffly. "All hard feelings intended."_ _

__"I need to speak to Dinah," she said as patiently as she could._ _

__"You know she won't listen; why do you bother?" The man was Dick's age, a little younger than herself, than Dinah, but had several reasons to be even more bitter about life._ _

__"This may concern her…your extended family," Barbara told him, still patient. It did no good to rise to their anger; it made them ten times as bad to deal with._ _

__"Your Bat-Toy stays out here," Roy growled. "And if she doesn't want to see you, I suggest you leave, rather than start a fight." He stepped to one side, letting her enter, though he did not break his bristling posture toward her._ _

__Barbara entered the well-kept house with an eye to any clues of what might be going through her one-time friend's mind now. She saw pictures of various people, bearing the trademark stamp of either of the two close-knit families, and various family oriented gatherings. There was no sign of the costumed lives present, at least until she reached the small den Dinah was in, sitting on a raised stool, designing flower arrangements. In here, the walls were testimony to who she had once been, to the three men and one other woman of her life, as well as to her daughter's proud Olympics history. News clippings had been carefully cut and framed, holographic news clips were on pedestal displays mounted to the wall, and the archer's bow hung with quiver over the fireplace._ _

__"Once the children moved away, there was truly no point in not displaying who we were," Dinah said in a cold voice, sensing the disapproval in Barbara's look at the shrine. "Anyone seeking to kill an old woman and her husband should at least know who their victims are."_ _

__"Dinah." Now Barbara looked at the woman in question, swallowing a gasp as she realized the hair was not blonde, nor even the raven of her childhood. The woman she saw now, just a few years older than herself, had pure white hair, a contrast to the face that showed very little of time's passage. Etched around her mouth, her eyes, there were lines of sorrow, of bitterness, but that face…it was almost uncannily the same as that day long past when Barbara had found her holding Oliver Queen's body._ _

__"Not what you expected? Some of us don't show our battle so clearly on the outside," Dinah managed in a voice that was chillier than Victor Fries' gun. "Why do you invade my life? Why will you not accept I wish nothing to do with you, with Gotham or her ilk?"_ _

__"The Sherwood Bandits…"_ _

__"Are none of my concern. If you come seeking me in relation to them, you are sorely misled, Barbara Gordon." Dinah snipped the thorns from a rose after it bit her thumb. "You wasted your time, and mine. Now leave."_ _

__"They came close to killing on their last strike against a corporate giant," Barbara pressed, watching for any sign of complicity. Dinah put her snips down, meeting her gaze calmly across the room. The pure ice of those blue eyes was enough to stop further words._ _

__"Then do your job, Commissioner, and make it to where they have no need to skate the immoral line of correcting society's ills. That's what cops are supposed to do, isn't it?" The small florist turned back to her project._ _

__"Dinah if they are known to you…I felt you could warn them, maybe bring an end to a dangerous game of playing at heroes." Barbara fought the urge to hug herself against the frost of her former friend._ _

__"Playing at heroes went out of style ages ago, Commissioner. Along with honor and loyalty." Dinah flicked her eyes to the doorway, and Roy entered. It startled Barbara that the man had moved so quietly._ _

__"Time for you to leave, Gordon." He was not taking 'no' for an answer, and Dinah was not paying any more attention to her, so Barbara gave up and went back to Terry. Roy saw the pair off his property before returning to his wife of over thirty-five years._ _

__"Call Cissie. I wish to talk to her." Dinah's voice was low, and he saw she had flipped a switch ensuring privacy against any surprises the two bats might have left behind._ _

__"If the children have told her anything, she'll deny it," Roy said._ _

__"Then get our gear ready. We're going to pay a visit to Olivia." Dinah's voice was resigned. "If any of them are involved, it will be her."_ _

__"She's too much like her grandfather."_ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__Terry watched the commissioner for a long moment, then felt he had to speak up. "Learn anything?"_ _

__"Something…is not quite right about her."_ _

__"You haven't seen her in a long time."_ _

__"And she has not aged, despite her hair," Barbara said. "Roy has, but she…"_ _

__"They do amazing things with surgery now, Commissioner."_ _

__"You're right, Terry…it just struck me as odd to see her look like that."_ _

__Silence descended, as each considered if the trip had been a waste of time. They would have to wait for the next raid by the Bandits to know._ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__The youngest, white haired Bandit hissed in frustration as his vibroblade snapped against the nu-steel armor of the guards he had run up against. Close to him the faceless woman with the crossbow firing energy spikes was barely keeping to one knee. Their leader, with her face guard and wrist launchers had been reduced to one arm for firing, while the last of their team, the man with the lightning in his eyes and at his hands, had long since been grounded._ _

__"Scarlet, MOVE!" the leader hissed._ _

__"I'm trying, Marian!" the white haired boy growled, before he forced the speed to his will, shifting away. He jerked the grounding rod out of his partner's thigh, supporting him._ _

__"Damn, Scarlet," the lightning laden man tried to build a solid charge to get the three guards off Marian._ _

__"Help Tuck," Scarlet said, calling on his father's speed one more time to make it to Marian's side. "Little John's barely conscious. It's our last stand," he hissed at her, seeing new guards through an open doorway._ _

__"Not while I breathe…." The leader of this band of modern day Robin Hoods drew in a deep breath, her throat tightening._ _

__"Oh damn." The doorway slammed closed as a red arrow streaked into its control panel. Scarlet looked up in time to see the black shadow cross a narrow beam, then found the archer, his red cloak hiding his face._ _

__"Red Arrow," Scarlet ground out._ _

__"Shrike won't be far behind," Marian warned, having let her throat relax. That power was just too unrefined to turn loose without weighing the consequence._ _

__"Down!" came a strong, feminine voice. All four obeyed it without even thinking, flattening against the floor just before a wave of pure sonic energy lashed out over them. Marian envied the fine control of that Scream, throwing the rest of the guards away from them with enough force to insure no quick recovery._ _

__"Move!" the Red Arrow shouted down at them, while they readied their flight disks. Marian saw the even more dangerous shadow just to one side of him, her face hidden behind a near solid mask, only her long white hair framing the blackness. As the Bandits got moving out of the work area, that black shadow moved, arms going around Red Arrow before she threw herself off the narrow ledge. Black wings emerged, very similar to WarHawk's, and the pair followed the Bandits. Marian growled; but she supposed this had been a long time coming, as they led the way to a hidden stronghold._ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__Bruce listened to the steady report Terry provided him, but his eyes were scanning the scene carefully._ _

__"Move back five meters, then left two," he directed. "Pan from right to left," he ordered the young man._ _

__His eyes narrowed, seeing the imprint of a cone shaped force. He knew letting Barbara go had been a mistake._ _

__One of Gotham's children had returned._ _

__This did not please the old man in the least._ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__Shrike inspected them all, letting Red Arrow tend their wounds. The boy, the one they called Little John was the worst, as his thigh was punctured front and back. She looked at his colors, the lightning in his eyes, and wondered if Static knew his son had come out of Dakota to run with a pack of kids across the continent._ _

__Tuck got a disapproving glance from her, as the purple clad woman, with crosses worked into the fabric had to let her mask fade, revealing the sharp dark features. Scarlet, wearing a blood red suit marked in white, the reverse of the future Hero Impulse. The white hair and the costume was enough to mark him for who his parents were, despite the full mask he hid behind._ _

__It was Marian that Shrike finally stood in front of, her eyes hard behind the blacked lenses in her own mask. Marian, her green faceplate pushing her blonde hair back, met the hidden gaze defiantly._ _

__"You should have come to me," Shrike said softly, so that none of the others could over hear, unless Scarlet had inherited his mother's enhanced senses._ _

__Marian jerked; she had been expecting a reprimand, anger, anything but this._ _

__"I…I did not know I could." She had grown up on her mother's stories, stories Cissie Queen had told her softly and with warnings never to mention them to Nana._ _

__"You need experience." Shrike held perfectly still. "Let us train you, and you'll be able to hit those businesses hard enough to get in and out faster than they can call down reinforcements."_ _

__Marian could not help but look at her team, see how badly hurt they were. She turned back to Shrike and nodded._ _

__"Teach us."_ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__"You need to take her down. Don't lose sight of the man, but it is Shrike you have to take out of the fight," Bruce counseled in Terry's ear._ _

__"You went over this several times already. Take her down, and the Red Arrow guy will likely call the kids off," Terry repeated, piloting the Bat Jet with ease. They were responding to a sighting of the Sherwood Bandits. It would be the fifth one in as many weeks, but the first one in Neo Gotham. "I still say they just need to be offered a more legitimate way. You can see the shift in how they operate since these other two were included in their merry little band."_ _

__"There is no room in our world for costumed metas with questionable morals." Bruce's voice was hard. "Shrike is a murderess."_ _

__Terry found the dim, narrow view of Bruce's judgment against a woman acquitted by the courts grating. He had listened to Gordon's story about how Black Canary had never been seen after her trial, and come to a slow conclusion that the very elusive Shrike, almost an urban legend in Star City, had been the outlet for her convictions. Shrike only came out when events spiraled nearly out of control, and no one had ever given a proper description of her in the few appearances she made. The fact she had a partner named Red Arrow, though, made it very clear who she really was._ _

__Terry set down, noting the collateral damage from the fight seemed to be minimized. He could not see the Bandits at first, his sensors having to flick through the spectrum to pick up the continuing fight under the eave of a crossover walk between buildings. He moved quickly to interfere with it, counting only the four Bandits they had been profiling since their appearance, and a double handful of gang members._ _

__"Since when do they go for the gangs?"_ _

__"Don't get distracted. She'll probably be high; he will be at an angle." Bruce wanted the full gang neutralized, but taking the two senior rogues down was a priority. Terry scanned, letting the gang occupy the Bandits while he searched. He thought he saw the crimson trail of a hunter's cloak off to one side, just before a very solid kick caught the side of his head._ _

__"It's not just his damn city," the small opponent he faced growled. "He wants the city cleaned up, and yet it's in worse shape than when we were children."_ _

__Terry had to shake his head, tuning out a Bruce who was demanding to know what had happened. //Took out the vid feed.//_ _

__"Listen these kids are…"_ _

__"Doing what's in their blood," she said, making no further move on him. "Tell him I'm not sitting by the fire any longer. Tell him the New Outsiders are in business."_ _

__Terry moved then, shifting as fast as he could, an entangling batarang ready. The woman all in black, her white hair crowning the costume that had to be using optics to make it seems so endlessly dark, moved, catching the batarang mid air and throwing it back, all without triggering its net, until it hit Terry. She leaped up, and the wings popped free of their casing, flying clear._ _

__When Terry got free, he had twelve gang members bound or unconscious, no Bandits, and a conviction that the woman he had just faced was far more meta than the files indicated._ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__Terry was waiting in the Commissioner's office when she reported in. The woman took his presence evenly enough, and took her chair, as well as the coffee he set in front of her. At least he wasn't in the suit, she sighed._ _

__"How can I help you, McInnis?"_ _

__"By telling me more history lessons." Terry sipped his own drink. "Tell me why your old friend might be able to move at a reflexive speed faster than what the suit gives me."_ _

__Barbara turned and looked at him in earnest, her eyes showing shock and concern._ _

__"Explain."_ _

__"I saw her last night. She caught an impact-activated batarang and threw it back, without activating it. It was like she saw the throw before I let it go. She only touched me once, but she knocked my vid feed off…I thought it was a lucky shot, but after…it was like she knew he'd be watching through it."_ _

__Barbara Gordon took a deep breath, and then let it out slowly. There was only one explanation, and she did not like the implications._ _

__"You remember the part I told you about the Crisis, the one the old Titans' villain Slade had engineered?" She watched him nod. "Slade, we learned from his daughter, was part of a very old, very black ops army experiment. His ability to think and react and endure had all been enhanced, artificially."_ _

__"And this is relevant how? He died before Black Canary went on trial." Terry watched the Commissioner, having seen a flicker of something in her eyes that spoke of fear._ _

__"That would not have stopped him," she murmured. "You see, Slade had two heroes he was rather fond of antagonizing, shaping them by provoking them."_ _

__"Nightwing." Terry knew that much from what little of the man's history he had been able to pry out._ _

__"And Black Canary." Barbara had often wondered about that, back when Dinah had still counted her as a friend, back when the League had been a new thing for the woman. She had, one night, confessed to having been caught up in events that had left her shaken to the core on how to be a hero._ _

__Apparently, the person responsible for that had left one last legacy to her._ _

__"You think he somehow talked her into this experiment before his death?" Terry considered that._ _

__"From what you said of her reaction times, I'd have to think he's somehow involved, but…she was not enhanced when Green Arrow died. If she had been, there's no way she would have held back with her family in danger."_ _

__"Then maybe I need to track down his daughter for some answers." Terry pushed himself away from where he had been leaning._ _

__"Terry…be careful."_ _

__"Always, Commish."_ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__Rose did not flinch as Batman stepped out of the dark shadows. "I wondered who would come," she said. "I suppose the lure of her own grandchild being active was too much to resist."_ _

__"You knew I was here." That was worth noting, in case he tried to sneak up on Shrike._ _

__"Too hard for me not to." She inspected him closely. "What questions do you have? Warning: I'll only answer what I wish, and if you push the issue, I assure you both I and my husband are still fully capable of evicting you from our home."_ _

__Despite himself, Terry was smiling inwardly. He had not had any idea what the daughter of a supervillain would be like, not one of the caliber he had heard Slade was._ _

__"Fair deal. How did Shrike become like your father?" He did not mince words or pretend not to know just whom this meeting was about. If Terry could get figure out that, the original timing of everything, he might be able to better grasp how to handle her. Unlike Bruce, he was unwilling to flat out condemn her for her choices so far._ _

__"Not the question I expected," Rose admitted, sitting down at her patio table, inviting Batman to do likewise. He slowly sat down, and listened to the history lesson. "When Daddy…when I killed him, certain protocols he had in place went into effect…" She slowly described receiving a letter, with a small, protected vial. She described the letter perfectly, mentioning three people had received similar ones. She paused. "Maybe it would be better if you read the letter." She went inside, and came back shortly, handing him the piece of paper that was preserved in plas-film._ _

__"Dear Kitten, If you are reading this I am dead. I firmly believe that you, or one of my two birds guided the method of my dying, and praise you for succeeding in the final test of life. As I have passed, I leave one last piece of my legacy for you. For the one you choose, as I long ago shared the legacy with you directly. The vial contains the serum that granted us our longevity and other gifts. Use it wisely, daughter, as I doubt that it can be replicated and I have destroyed all notes pertaining to its creation. My two birds have also been given this choice, and you three should look to one another in the future, for the lessons I shared with each of you."_ _

__"These arrived the same month Daddy died. Despite me being in protection at the time." Rose shook her head. "I saw them both not long after. Each came to me, asking questions. Nightwing swore he would destroy his sample. Dinah Lance…she never mentioned her sample."_ _

__"How long would it have kept?" Batman needed to know the chronology of events._ _

__"The vials were well protected. They could have kept indefinitely." Rose looked at Terry with a clear eye. "You are trying to determine just when Dinah took the serum, and if it made her insane? I can tell you when. She took it the week after her trial; Harper came to me, wanting to know if there was anyway to save her from it, if she turned on him. I went, and I believed she came through the adjustment period mostly sane."_ _

__"Mostly?"_ _

__"It deepened her hatreds, made her less tolerant of certain things." The older woman shook her head. "She took to Daddy's methods after that, working from the shadows, controlling the town she lived in through puppets and shadow plays. It worked; Star City is a place anyone would want to live, and the Shrike is rarely seen unless new threats emerge."_ _

__"I know your history, knew of Nightwing's," Batman began. "But just how did Black Canary become your father's student at that level?"_ _

__"I don't know. She passed into his life before Daddy had found me, brought me back into it. The only time I saw him and her together, was a week before the end, just before my husband arrived in Daddy's compound, just before Daddy triggered his final plan. They spent three hours in his office, behind a locked door. When she left…Daddy began giving orders."_ _

__"You think they are connected?" Batman looked sharply at her; if Canary was implicated in the Crisis, maybe Bruce was right._ _

__"I have no way of knowing…but the timing is suspicious."_ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__Ace growled at the man radiating hostility toward his master. He had never smelled the archer before, but the Master saw him as a threat and an annoyance._ _

__"Why have you come, Harper?" The old man's voice was harsh, but the glare from green eyes back at him was full of barely repressed contempt and hate._ _

__"I'm not letting you repeat your mistakes, not when my family's lives are on the line." The archer leaned against the long bow he was carrying tonight._ _

__"Tell her to bring them in, then." Bruce was cold and dismissive._ _

__"She can't; they're the only tools she has right now, to stop what is in motion," Roy snapped. "Just like Dad was standing on his own then; are you going to let them get slaughtered again?"_ _

__"Another conspiracy theory?" Bruce kept his voice edged in disbelief, even when Roy threw a disk at his lap._ _

__"Listen; or don't. You've gotten damn good at sacrificing innocents over the years!" With that, the redhead stormed out in violent anger._ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__"Terry," Bruce's voice broke into the flight._ _

__"Bruce, tried to raise you earlier; I learned more about the missing years in Lance's…"_ _

__"That doesn't matter right now; go the coordinates I just sent you," Bruce ordered. "Combat situation."_ _

__"On it, Bruce."_ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__The Sherwood Bandits were dealing with the small army of meta rejects the best they could…which Terry had to admit was more formidable by a long shot than the last time he had seen them. The one they called Maid Marian was calling orders clearly, the group of … five, as Red Arrow was among them, obeying and moving as a unit. Shrike was nowhere to be seen, and the odds were getting thick._ _

__"Find Shrike." Bruce's orders were clear. "Assist her."_ _

__"Bruce, she might have helped…"_ _

__"The past is irrelevant at this point; she must succeed, or all of New Gotham will become the birthplace of a new Bang Baby Syndrome that makes Dakota look normal."_ _

__"On it!" He bypassed the vicious fighting, making his way into the depths of the complex. A string of bodies in the way made for a good trail to follow, leading him right to a tense confrontation between a gene bomb, counting down, a wounded Shrike, and the UltraHumanite._ _

__Terry moved to interfere, and found himself flying across the room, as the Reverse Flash punched him at speed._ _

__"Batman!" Shrike called. "This bomb…"_ _

__"Bang Bomb; got the brief!" he called trying to evade or counter the speedster, while Shrike dealt with her problem._ _

__"Take the footing," Bruce suggested harshly._ _

__"No kidding, old man," Terry griped right back, finding the right compartment and throwing a small explosive device. It did not have a lot of force, but it did scatter hundreds of tiny bearings all over the floor, each coated with slick oil. It was more than adequate to get the Reverse Flash off balance long enough for three strong blows to take him out of the equation._ _

__When he looked, he saw the David-and-Goliath struggle in the center of the room. UltraHumanite had possessed a gun; he no longer did, but the strength of his body and leverage of height was enough to keep Shrike from overpowering him to get the key around his neck._ _

__Batman moved, getting to where he could see the timer, and then looked back at the struggling pair just in time to see Shrike's wings pop free, the jets ignite, and her lift and throw all in one smooth motion. Using the momentum and height from her jets, the throw was powerful enough to sail UltraHumanite right into a bank of computers, resulting in a lot of sparking, smoke, and small flames. She followed right on top of the throw, to grab the key while Batman looked for a way to disarm the bomb._ _

__"Damn." The quiet word caught Terry's attention over Bruce's words that the key, the failsafe key, would be needed. Shrike was just turning back, her face set. Batman noted the damage to her armor, saw the blood leaking from one of the punctures in it._ _

__"Shrike?"_ _

__"Batman…don't fail my family the way Bruce failed us then," she said firmly. She went to the bomb, set her feet firmly, wings at full extension. She fired something from her wrist, and a hole crumbled away in the ceiling._ _

__"Dinah!" Bruce's word came through the suit._ _

__"She's been dead to you for years," Shrike said coldly. "Gotham's daughter has one last gift though." With that lingering in the air, all her enhanced strength went into lifting the bomb, her jets firing on turbo, and Batman could only watch in miserable acknowledgment as the woman and bomb roared into the sky, straight up until it exploded, making a rippling light in the night sky._ _

__"Bruce?" Terry asked cautiously._ _

__"She was high enough…there should be no fallout." The voice was subdued, lacking its edge._ _

__"I have to see to her family."_ _

__`~`~`~`~`_ _

__Red Arrow was down when the battle ended, the Sherwood Bandits around him. Little John moved to let Batman reach the redhead, watching him kneel._ _

__"Di?" the man asked, as he looked, almost unseeing over Batman's shoulder._ _

__"She…"_ _

__Green-gold eyes closed. "Guess we're going to join Ollie together then." He moved his hand from the gaping wound in his stomach, making Friar Tuck sob softly. He had taken the blast meant for her._ _

__"Gran'pa?" Marian said softly. "What about us? You can't leave us!"_ _

__"You kids…listen to Batman. He's got a good heart," Roy managed, before breathing was too hard. A moment later, his body relaxed one last time, leaving the small band of heroes in silence._ _


End file.
